Fallen Prophecy
by Ryuutsu Seishin Hime no Argh
Summary: The story of the first Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf to appear in Hyrule: three best friends living in a time of chaos. War and betrayal will test their loyalties to their nations, their peoples, and one another, and decide the path of Hyrule’s fate forever.
1. Midsummer

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

Welcome to the "new" project, _Fallen Prophecy—_a reposting of the formerly-discontinued fanfiction that was started about eight months ago. So if you recognize this fic, you've probably already seen it! (The first three chapters, anyway.)

In the subsequent months since posting the first three chapters and then discontinuing the fic, this story has bashed about in my brain and finally demanded to be let out—who am I to ignore it? It's also much better planned after eight months in my head. I've written past six chapters and I'm greatly looking forward to continuing this piece until its end, so I hope you'll join me for the ride.

**Summary:** The story of the first Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf ever to appear in Hyrule—three best friends living in a time of change. War and betrayal will test their loyalties to their nations, their peoples, and one another, and decide the path of Hyrule's fate forever.

**Rating: **PG-13 for violence and adult situations.

**Disclaimer: **The Legend of Zelda series and all related characters and concepts are the property of Nintendo. In all other aspects this work is entirely mine and may not be used without my express permission.

**Notes:** I'm looking for a beta! My first one, Dori, has been…missing. (Are you out there somewhere, Noodles?) Anyway, if you're interested in beta'ing _Fallen Prophecy_, please contact me by e-mail or IM (TwilightinViolet). Please have a solid knowledge of grammar and a sharp eye for typos.

Without further ado, the fic.

* * *

**Fallen Prophecy**

Chapter 1

Midsummer

The sky was a velvety midnight blue dusted with stars, and the moon hung full and luminous over the land of Hyrule on a warm midsummer's night. The windows of the marble-white palace in the Hylian Kingdom and the dwellings of Castletown were ablaze with light. Jets of silver shot periodically up into the sky like arrows to explode in dazzling bursts of color. No man, woman, or child slept on this night, the last eve of the ninety-ninth Year of the Goddesses.

In an open bar on Glutton's Lane in Castletown, two young men and one young woman sat at a table under the stars. The woman hid her starkly pale features beneath a plain brown cloak and hood, but the two men dressed comfortably in tunics and breeches, one outfit green, the other black. One, with olive-dark skin and vividly red hair, was Gerudo. The other was golden-haired and blue-eyed; he wasn't Hylian, or even born of Hyrule.

A server brought them a round of drinks and hurried away. "Zelda, take that ridiculous thing off," Ganondorf ordered, reaching across the table to grasp a heavy pewter mug. "No one's looked twice at you."

Zelda, Royal Princess of Hylia, snatched the hood away from her pale blond hair and glared at Ganondorf Dragmire. "You do _not_ know Impa as I do. That woman is a bloodhound. She will find me no matter what I do."

"Nonsense," Link said easily. He draped himself in his chair, propping his boots on the seat beside him. "She's probably out having fun, like everyone else."

"Impa? Have fun?" In a less exalted person, the noise Zelda made would have been labeled a snort. "I laugh at the notion."

"Well, you could always head off back to the palace and escape her wrath." Link exchanged a slow grin with Ganondorf. "Let Lord What's-His-Name charm you."

"Lord What's-His-Name couldn't charm a snake," Zelda snapped. "He's a boorish dull bore like the rest of them."

Ganondorf glanced upright to fix the position of the moon. "Nearly midnight. It'll be the Hundredth year in ten minutes."

"Our birthdays as well," Zelda said excitedly, apparently forgetting dull would-be suitors in the prospect of turning seventeen. "Isn't it grand to be alive? The turn of the century, and our birthdays, and then just a year until we're adults. Then perhaps my father will stop thrusting suitors at me."

"Really, I don't know what you're complaining about," Ganondorf sighed. "I'd be _thrilled_ if someone were thrusting suitors at me. You'd think females decided soldiers all have the plague, the way they avoid the practice yards when the army is training."

"You think you've got it hard?" Link said mournfully. "If I have to hear one more time about the proper conduct of knights—"

"At least you get to _see_ pretty girls, they're always hanging around the knights—"

Zelda banged her mug down on the table. "In case you two haven't noticed, you are _in_ the company of a pretty girl."

The two men looked at her critically. Zelda knew she wasn't beautiful. She was too pale, the features of her face too angular. A pair of sapphire blue eyes might have added much to her countenance, only they were large and wide against her thin face. Grace and character added something, but she wasn't a true beauty. Not like her mother.

"You're all right," Ganondorf offered at last. "You'd do better if you got some color."

Zelda stuck out her tongue at him. "You're no prize yourself, long-nose."

A piercing whistle shot through the air, followed by a ear-splitting crack and the largest explosion of color yet. Dozens more followed it rapidly as firecracker after firecracker shot into the sky above the palace.

Zelda glanced quickly up and jumped to her feet in dismay. "It's midnight!" she cried as the clock began to boom somewhere in the center of Castletown. "We're going to miss the lighting!"

"Not if we run," Link said. "C'mon!"

Zelda tossed a coin purse on the table and the three darted off through the deserted streets of Castletown, counting the clock chimes as they ran. Once the clock struck twelve, the ceremony would begin to light the New Year bonfire and pray for the goddesses' blessing.

They made it just as the last chime sounded, skidding to a halt at the edges of the large crowd packing Castletown Square. In the center of the square, a safe distance from the clock tower, a large pile of wood waited. A red-robed priest stood at the top of a ladder over the pile, torch in hand.

"For the goddesses' blessing we humbly pray," the priest began.

"For the goddesses' blessing we humbly pray," the three friends muttered breathlessly with the townspeople.

"Great Din, defend the peace of Hyrule, and with your flaming sword drive away all who would seek to bring strife to this land," the priest intoned in a voice that carried easily over the crowd. "Wise Nayru, guide us all in honest lives; let us not stray from the path of virtue. Merciful Farore, help us to be warm in our hearts to our brethren. Smile upon us with kindness, and keep us safe in your golden arms."

"Let it be so," the townspeople chanted.

"Goddesses, we beg your blessing upon the Hylian Kingdom and all Hyrule, in the hundredth year of your age." The priest dipped his torch. As fire blazed in the first bit of kindling, he cried, "A happy and prosperous new year!"

The crowd exploded with cheers. Music struck up, cheerful and thrumming, drowning out the elegant strains from the palace. _"This_ is why I love spending New Year's in town," Zelda said happily, grabbing her two friends by the hands. "Come on, let's dance!"

"Princess Zelda!" a new voice snapped.

The three froze. "Uh-oh," Link murmured, eyebrows raising.

They turned, knowing what they'd find. Impa, Zelda's bodyguard, looked as severe as ever, tall and heavily-muscled, silver hair pulled away from her stern face. She was a Sheikah of Kakariko Village, the only piece of land owned by her kind.

She grabbed the princess's arm, tugging her away from her friends. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you? I should have known you'd be out cavorting with rogues and commoners. No offense," she added curtly to Link and Ganondorf.

They both shrugged. "None taken," Link replied.

Zelda glared at her. "I'm not _cavorting,_ and these are my friends. New Year's is a time for gathering, isn't it?"

"Which is exactly why you should be at the palace with your family," Impa said firmly, towing her royal mistress away. "Your mother and father are worried sick."

"Oh please, Father just wants to show me off to noblemen's sons."

"You know perfectly well that is not true…" Princess and bodyguard disappeared up the road to the palace, arguing.

Link shook his head. Once those two got into a debate there was no stopping them. Zelda made the mistake of arguing every time. "So," he said amiably to his friend, "what say you and I go find some pretty girls?"

Ganondorf laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "You read my mind."

* * *

Zelda woke hot, cross, and with a headache. Her head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. She struggled out of a tangle of sheets and swung her bare feet to the floor, peering blearily at the clock on her nightstand. The ninth hour, she noted crossly. No wonder she felt so groggy, used to waking at dawn to the shouts and clanging of weapons that was the Silver Knights at practice. There were both advantages and disadvantages to having a room that overlooked the great courtyard, but she didn't much mind watching a group of young, handsome men at weapons practice in the morning.

Sadly, there would be none in the courtyard today. It was New Year's Day, and hardly anyone in the kingdom worked on such an important holiday. The palace staff would still go about their daily business, the courts would meet, the healers stay ready for emergencies, but it was a lazy midsummer day for everyone else.

A knock came at the door, and she opened it to admit a brawny maid with arms like a blacksmith's, bearing a large basin of water. A lukewarm bath cooled her off and chased away most of the headache. Feeling clearer, she combed her wet hair, cleaned her teeth, and selected the coolest dress she had, a pale gold silk that left her shoulders bare, with loose sleeves and a full, billowy skirt. It was going to be hot today.

Normally she hated pinning up her waist-length hair, but today she coiled it on top of her head, wanting it off her neck. Once finished, she left her room in search of something to eat.

She found her mother seated in the dining room reserved only for members of the royal family. Queen Leona of Hylia wore a velvet gown in deep purple and coiled her pale hair atop her head much like Zelda had; the style emphasized her slim jaw and graceful neck. She glanced up as her daughter entered, and a smile lit her beautiful face. "Happy birthday, darling."

Zelda smiled in spite of herself and kissed her mother's cheek. "Thank you, Mother, and good morning. Aren't you _hot?"_ she asked, eyeing the velvet dress. "You do look lovely, though. The color emphasizes your eyes."

Leona, whose eyes were an extraordinary shade of violet, answered serenely, "That's precisely what your father said, my dear. He requested I wear it, for ambassadors are coming today from the desert, and he wants his court to look its best. Undoubtedly he will ask that you change to something more suitable. Doesn't that dress bare a little too much shoulder, Zelda?"

"It's hot, Mother. I don't care if it flashes my bosom to the entire court if I don't die of heat stroke." The queen laughed, and Zelda smiled in spite of herself. She was lucky to have a mother with a sense of humor. "As for Father, does he want us to dress well out of respect for our guests, or because he wants to appear imposing?"

Leonie shrugged as a servant appeared with a tray of fruit and set it before mother and daughter. "Thank you. You can ask your father if you wish, but I would advise against it," she added to Zelda, eyes twinkling. "He is still rather irate, I'm afraid."

Zelda sighed. She should have known her father would still be angry that she'd snuck out of the palace last night to attend a New Year's celebration in Castletown. 'Wholly inappropriate,' he'd put it, for a princess to elude her maids and bodyguards, leave the palace without the permission of her parents, and drink and dance in the streets while _he'd_ had to explain to her baffled suitors that she wasn't there for them to meet. One would think she was no better than a milkmaid's brat, he'd told her, crimson with fury, before restricting her to palace grounds for a month.

None of it bothered her much. Zelda was quite proud of herself for pulling off such a daring feat, and she suspected her mother was, too.

They were breakfasting on poached eggs and smoked salmon when the king himself entered, dignified and handsome in a golden tunic over a crimson shirt and full crimson breeches. His dark brown hair was neatly combed; a closely trimmed beard emphasized a strong jaw and chin. The only feature Zelda shared with him was a pair of sapphire blue eyes.

Zelda couldn't help a twinge of pity. _He must be dying of heat beneath those clothes, _she thought sympathetically.

Harkinian III, Royal King of Hylia, kissed his wife and daughter brusquely and took a seat at the head of the table between them. "Lovely weather we're having. I don't know how the Gerudo stand it every day."

"They wear lighter clothes, Father," Zelda offered.

Harkinian raised bushy eyebrows at her. "I think _your_ gown is a little too light, daughter," he informed her with a scowl. "I bid you change into something more suitable for our guests."

"When are they due to arrive?" Leona asked, tasting a puree delicately.

"By sundown." Harkinian sighed. "I hope they don't come brandishing those scimitars of theirs. They will insult our people. You know how tense things are between the north and west these days. The right push could send us straight into war."

"I hope it won't come to that." Leona laid a hand on her husband's arm. "At least we've a chance to make things right."

Zelda felt a twinge of guilt. Perhaps she was too quick to judge her father. Perhaps he genuinely wanted the peace talks to succeed. But it was difficult to tell, especially with both the army and the Silver Knights training right on palace grounds these days, under her father's eye.

She couldn't blame her father for preparing for war, if it came to that. The women of the Gerudo desert made far too much trouble for the Hylian Kingdom. They continued to raid Hylian towns and lands in Hyrule Field, too important to the kingdom to be ignored; Hyrule Field was, after all, where their crops came from. They attacked caravans on the roads throughout Hyrule, looting and stealing. And their eternal enmity with the Sheikah made everyone sweat. No one wanted to find out what the Sheikah might do if angered.

Zelda understood that a good pounding might encourage the Gerudo to cooperate for a few decades, at least. She only hoped it needn't come to that. One of her best friends was Gerudo, and a very unique Gerudo at that—the first male ever born to their race. Ganondorf was loyal to the king and to Hylia, but it would be a terrible injustice to make him fight his own people in a war.

"If they do come with weapons," Leona began.

"I know, my dear, I know. It doesn't necessarily mean anything. If I were an enemy of all Hyrule, I suppose I'd feel naked without a weapon myself." Harkinian laid his napkin aside. "Will you come to the temple services at noon, my dear? Zelda?"

Leona nodded, but Zelda shook her head. "I prefer to go by myself later, Father." It also gave her the perfect excuse to leave the palace, but her father need not know that.

She could tell by Harkinian's scowl that he suspected her motives were not quite pure. "You are only to visit the temple," he said crisply. "Do not forget your restriction, daughter. Be certain that I haven't."

"Of course not, Father," Zelda replied meekly. She saw her mother hide a smile.

"My lord?" the queen asked, rising. "Shall we?"

Zelda smiled as the king and queen swept out of the dining room. She could survive her father's bad tempers with her mother on her side. It wasn't that he was a bad person, she thought with a sigh as she rose with her plate. Just that he was difficult, especially now that she was at a marriageable age and difficult herself. She wondered if they would ever stop butting heads.

A maid hurried forward to take the plate from her hands. "Let me, Your Highness."

"Thank you," Zelda said vaguely, checking the tiny watch that hung on a chain from her neck. An hour until noon. Once her mother and father were well on their way to the New Year's services at the Temple of Time, she would be on her way as well. She did intend to visit the temple later, as promised. First, however, she had some things to do.

* * *

Link didn't like holidays much. It wasn't that he wanted to work, exactly, he just preferred to have something to do. That was the trouble with holidays like New Year's; no one did anything unless their work was necessary, and routines were interrupted. Had it been a normal day he'd have gotten in at least four hours of practice by now. Today he'd had none.

The orchard off Palace Way was as good a place as any to get reacquainted with his longsword. While he waited for his friends to arrive, Link went through the routines of blows and blocks, steadily increasing in speed and complexity. He was just finishing a routine with a thrust and hook good for parting a man with his weapon when Zelda appeared.

"Are you mad?" the princess demanded by way of greeting. "The hottest day of summer and a holiday at that, and you just have to play with your sword."

Link grinned at her as he slid the longsword back into its sheath. "Happy birthday to you too."

Her face relaxed into a smile. "Happy birthday. Where's Ganondorf?"

"No idea. Probably sleeping off last night's drinks."

"You two have all the fun," Zelda complained. "_I_ was privileged to listen to my father's blistering lecture about how I bring shame upon him and the entire court."

"What's the damage?" Link asked sympathetically.

"I'm restricted to palace grounds for a month." Zelda shrugged indifferently. "As if I care a whit. Father is easy to elude. He's at a temple service with Mother right now."

"What about Impa? How'd you manage to shake her?"

Zelda smiled, flopping down onto the grass beneath an apple tree. "I didn't need to. She has the day off. She's visiting Kakariko, no doubt." She shuddered slightly. "I don't envy her."

Link understood her misgivings. He'd visited Kakariko Village once and hoped never to repeat the experience. It was the sort of place that made the hair on the back of a man's neck stand straight up, still and eerily quiet. Perhaps the worst thing about it were the Sheikah themselves, and the way they stared with eyes that saw all yet revealed nothing. But maybe Impa, a Sheikah herself, was at home there.

"Goddesses," a familiar voice groaned. Ganondorf tottered down the path, looking the worst for wear. "Does it have to be so damn hot? Why does the wind make so much noise?"

Zelda rolled her eyes. "Because you drank too much and didn't go to a healer for the hangover cure."

Ganondorf made a face. "What, that bog water they call tea? Nasty stuff." He dropped down onto the grass beside Zelda. "So, now that we're all seventeen, I suppose we must do something spectacular to celebrate this glorious day. Who's up for diving off Death Mountain? Wrestling Stalchildren in Hyrule Field? Scaring the Kokiri?"

"They'd lead you into the woods and you'd be lost forever," Link informed him. "Those forest kids are creative."

"I have something for both of you," Zelda announced, rummaging in the purse at her leather belt. Her friends groaned.

"Zelda, really, we told you not to—"

"Shouldn't have bothered—"

"Well, I wanted to." Zelda glared at them both, daring them to continue arguing, then held up a pair of pendants hung on black cords. The pendants appeared to be made of solid gold, worked into the interlocking-triangle symbol of the Triforce.

Link and Ganondorf exchanged half-exasperated, half-tolerant glances. "What are those supposed to be?" Link asked.

"They're Triforce pendants," Zelda said contentedly, doling them out. "I have one too, see?" she added, producing another. "If you wear them, they'll give you protection, wisdom, and comfort. They're also friendship symbols of sorts. As the goddesses are bound together, so shall we be bound to each other."

"Trust a female to be sentimental," Ganondorf muttered; nevertheless, he put it on.

Link donned his as well. The pendant was cool and heavy against his chest, a solid, reassuring presence. "Thanks, Zelda. I don't have anything for you…"

"Me neither," Ganondorf admitted.

"Don't trouble yourselves," Zelda said happily. "You're wearing them, that's enough."

They spent the afternoon in Castletown playing games and visiting the square, which was alive with music and entertainment in celebration of the new year. A players' troupe staged a mock swordfight for the townspeople's entertainment.

"That's so fake," Link whispered after one swordsman's elaborate flourish sent his foe's sword flying. "The other guy could have stabbed him a dozen times while he was being fancy."

"If that fellow there stopped dancing for a breath he might get in a few blows," Ganondorf complained. "He's afraid of his own sword. He'd never have lasted this long in a real fight."

"Shut up, you idiots, you're drawing attention," Zelda hissed as their neighbors muttered and glared at them darkly. They soon decided it was time to leave, rather than risk a palace guard realizing a princess was among the audience.

Their last stop for the day was the Temple of Time. Link wasn't terribly keen on praying and neither was Ganondorf, but he understood Zelda's reasoning. Rulers who ignored the goddesses were displaced from the throne. Zelda planned on ruling; she didn't plan on any interference.

She prayed for some time before the marble-white altar, for her family, for her friends, for her kingdom. Link and Ganondorf hung back out of respect, but occasionally caught a few words. Hearing Zelda beseech Nayru to help her escape her father's attempts to marry her off before her eighteenth birthday, Link felt a flash of sympathy. She had a year to go, just one year before rulership was passed on to her by law. If the queen didn't conceive a male child within that year, or Zelda wasn't married, she alone with be Hylia's sovereign. Yet her father had made it clear he didn't consider her suitable for reign and seemed determined to marry her off so that her husband would become king, and Hylia's primary ruler. Link disagreed with King Harkinian. His friend had a good head on her shoulders, an eye for politics and the court, and ambition. Lots of it.

It was only when Zelda was done with her prayers that the three realized they had company. A tall figure in a hooded robe stood motionless in the temple's doorway, blocking their way out. A chill ran down Link's spine; he had a feeling the stranger had been there for quite some time.

Zelda was the first to speak. "Excuse me…may we help you?"

"It is as I have seen." A voice, low and faintly female, issued from beneath the hood. "I have known you before only in visions. Now that I look upon you, I know for certain that it will come to pass."

"That what will come to pass?" Ganondorf demanded.

"The cycle," the hooded stranger replied. "The balance."

She appeared unarmed, but she was no ordinary woman. Link gripped the hilt of his sword in a white-knuckled fist. "Who are you?"

The woman slowly reached up and drew the hood down, revealing a face so intensely beautiful that it was difficult to look at her. Her hair was black as a raven's wing, and her eyes were pure white.

"I am Fallen," she replied in that same low, whispery voice, "and I know your fates, children of the goddesses."

* * *

To be continued.


	2. Ambassadors

_A note from the Hime no Argh—_

Hello all, Hime here with another chapter. Lots of thanks to those who read and reviewed the first one. The first three chapters will be going up rather quickly, as they were already posted before; once I get to the fourth chapter the upload rate will slow down a bit, but hopefully not too much. I'm hoping for a rate of a chapter per week, perhaps more if I write faster than expected.

To answer a question, these first three chapters aren't much different; I just edited them a bit for style and clarity and changed a few small details that would affect continuity later.

Still looking for a beta, please apply if interested.

* * *

Chapter 2

Ambassadors

When she arrived back at the palace it was nearly sundown, and Zelda had to hurry to change and meet her family in the Great Foyer. Luckily the day had cooled, so she chose a satin lavender gown with a brocaded surcoat, a new fashion at court.

She went and joined her family at the foot of the two great mahogany staircases, their wood polished to gleaming, in the main foyer of the palace. The fact that the king and queen had chosen to meet their guests here told Zelda how much her parents wanted the peace talks to succeed. Normally ambassadors would have been greeted by foot servants and escorted into the monarchs' presence in the Hall of Kings.

As they waited, still and silent, Zelda found her thoughts returning to the strange woman in the temple, who had called herself Fallen. After that astonishing declaration she'd turned and left; they'd followed her out of the temple, only to find that she had disappeared from the grounds as mysteriously as she'd come. She left a lingering chill down Zelda's spine, but she tried to ignore it. She would find out what the woman meant, or not. For now she had more important things to worry about.

She glanced about the foyer to keep herself occupied while waiting; its beauty never tired her. Visitors to the palace generally started here. They might admire the keep's great double doors, carved with an image of the goddesses crowning Harkinian I, the greatly honored first king of Hylia. Perhaps they would view the portraits spaced about the walls of past kings and their royal families. Undoubtedly they would view the Trinity of the Goddesses, a very famous sculpture that stood between the double staircases. It depicted Nayru, carved of plain granite, clothed in the robes of a magistrate and holding a scale on which she balanced diamonds against the hearts of men. Farore knelt beside her, carved of white marble, tenderly bearing an infant in her arms. On her other side was Din, carved of black obsidian, holding a sword in one hand and a human head in the other.

As a little girl, Zelda had been terribly afraid of the image of Din, until her mother explained why the artist had chosen to portray her in such a frightening manner.

"Din is our warrior-goddess, the great defender," Leona had explained as she and her daughter gazed at the sculpture. "Soldiers call upon her on the battlefield for victory against their enemies. But Din gives us greater gifts than victory in war. In her savagery, she reminds us of the price of violence—human lives. Thus we must be steadfast in our duty and strive always for peace, lest our mortal time upon this earth be marked with swords and corpses."

Zelda had taken her mother's words to heart, but she also had come to recognize that Din was, indeed, a goddess of war. In this imperfect world there was a goddess-sanctioned time and place for violence.

At last, after what felt like hours of waiting, the great double doors swung open, admitting a herald and two strangers clothed in dusty burnooses. "Your Majesties, Your Highness, I present Headsister Nebakh and Farim Sandeyes of the Venom Snake Tribe of the Gerudo Nation. Honored Ambassadors, Their Royal Majesties King Harkinian III and Queen Leona, and Her Royal Highness, Princess Zelda."

Zelda sighed inwardly as the Gerudo shed their burnooses—they had indeed brought weapons. Both wore the shoulder-baring midriff and full, billowy leggings favored by their people, theirs made of pale yellow silk. The woman named as Headsister had dark brown eyes and wore her vividly red hair tied away from her face and secured with a jeweled clip. Farim's hair was twisted into several braids and her eyes were pale amber. Tribal tattoos wound up her arms, the meaning of which Zelda could not decipher, but she knew they marked her as a witchsister. Nebakh wore leather bracers at her forearms and a leather collar around her neck, a rough guard against a knife to the throat. The witch, Farim, wore no protective clothing; she was probably powerful enough to go without it. These two were the head of their tribe. It was a good sign that the Gerudo had sent such important people.

"Your welcome honors us," Nebakh told the king, a hint of the desert accent in her proud voice.

"As your coming honors us," the king replied firmly. "We are proud to host such esteemed guests of the desert. We hope that during your stay here, you will think of our kingdom as your home. And now, please honor us once more by taking supper with us in the Great Hall."

Nebakh and Farim bowed shortly. "The honor is ours, Your Majesty," Nebakh replied, her gleaming eyes flicking between the king, queen, and princess.

If Zelda thought that the arrival of the Gerudo ambassadors would excuse her from the nightly game of suitors, she was wrong. Her dinner companion for the evening was Aldon from the Saman Highlands, her mother's homeland; the two were second cousins. But Leona had once been a mere duchess and distant from the court while Aldon was a second-rank prince; they hardly knew each other.

Aldon wasn't boring, Zelda had to admit that. He entertained her with tales of raids from mountain barbarians, but spoke too often and too highly of his father the king. Zelda pressed him to admit that his father wasn't perfect. "Oh, but he is," Aldon told her feverishly. "I could never be half the king my father is."

_And there is the problem,_ Zelda thought. How could he make a good king when he himself didn't expect to be one? "The prince is obsessed with his father and thinks no man can do better," she complained to her mother later. "Why does Father insist on thrusting these lackluster men at me? He wants a man with no confidence to rule his kingdom?"

Leona smiled, amused. "And what about you, daughter? What kind of queen do you expect to be?"

"One as good or better than Father," Zelda replied with complete seriousness. "Father is a good king, but he is not without his faults. Having observed his errors, I can guard myself against making the same ones."

"You'll make plenty of errors of your own," Leona promised.

"I know. But I will learn from them."

* * *

These days the army and the Silver Knights shared the enormous soldiers' barracks on palace grounds, well away from the keep. Not everyone was happy with the arrangement, but Link certainly had no problem with it. He and Ganondorf were just sitting down to a nightly game of cards when the door at the far end of the barracks swung open. Soldiers and knights stopped what they were doing to stare, open-mouthed, at the line of Gerudo filing in.

"Well," Ganondorf whispered, "I think it's safe to say the ambassadors arrived from the desert."

The captain of Ganondorf's company, a grizzled old veteran with a bellow that could shake the rafters, introduced the group of twenty or so women as the Venom Snake tribe. "The Venom Snake Headsister, Nebakh, has given her permission to house her tribe in the barracks," the captain barked. "I expect you gentlemen to treat our guests with respect."

Link, eyeing the Gerudo, could see why the Headsister saw no problem in housing her tribeswomen in a barrack full of men. The ladies looked as though they'd be quick to cut the throats of anyone who bothered them.

About thirty beds were unoccupied. The men shifted to the far end of the barrack to give the women space, and helped erect a curtain between them. Done, Link and Ganondorf returned to their card game.

"I wonder how the talks are going," Ganondorf said without expression as he drew a card from the deck.

"Couldn't tell you. Hopefully they're going well." Link jerked his head toward the curtain. "Any of them recognize you, you think?" he asked his friend, who was somewhat famous among the Gerudo.

Ganondorf shrugged. "No idea. They're not _my_ tribe."

The next morning brought a return to routine, and Link found himself up at sunrise in the main palace courtyard in mock sword combat with his fellow Silver Knights. He sometimes wondered if the purpose of practicing in the courtyard was merely to show the knights off to palace women. They certainly did seem to attract an audience day by day.

Today there were new faces among the crowd. Lin, their sergeant, was the first to take notice. She elbowed the captain, a man named Benek. He tipped his helmet to their guests, the Gerudo women. "Good morning, ladies," he said politely. "What may I do for you?"

"I want to hear those swords sing, boys!" Lin bellowed when she saw a few of the knights had their eye on the Gerudo and not on combat. She was a rare female knight, a short, stocky woman with brown hair chopped short and a lion's roar. "You've all seen women before, or at least I hope so!"

"Your training is very ordered," one of the Gerudo remarked, eyes glinting. "In the desert, we train our warriors by throwing them into combat with bandits and beasts."

"An interesting method," Benek replied blandly, without a single hint that he'd taken notice of the slight insult to the knights. Lin was not so practiced at hiding her feelings. She scowled as she ordered the knights to pair off and begin the fifth routine.

Link smiled to himself as he and his partner went through the routine with the ease of practice. The Gerudo woman had apparently forgotten the knight squads riding all over Hyrule at this moment, apprehending known criminals, helping small villages defend against raids, and hunting bandits in the mountains, field, and of course, the desert. He himself had been part of one such squad just last month. He would be assigned to one again soon. Benek and his sergeants, Lin included, believed that experience made a warrior; it was all part of the training.

"It is a mixed blessing that we live in troubled times," a new voice remarked. Lin gave the order to halt, and the knights bowed to King Harkinian. Princess Zelda was with him; she winked discreetly at Link.

The king nodded to the knights and continued to address the Gerudo who'd spoken. "We are perhaps fortunate that there are enough people who would break the law to give our knights and soldiers real experience in the field. We are doubly unfortunate, however, that knights and armies are a necessity at all."

"Such is the curse of humanity, Your Majesty," Nebakh replied. She and her tribe's witchsister accompanied the king and princess; they were probably touring the palace. "We Gerudo take pride, however, in the strength and valor of our sisters. Our warriors are greatly valued."

"Honored Ambassador, why not test your warriors' skills in combat with ours?" The suggestion came from Zelda. Link saw Lin smile slowly, a wicked gleam in her black eyes.

"Why not, indeed?" the sergeant asked in her politest, most meaningless voice. "We would welcome the chance to test our warriors against the famed warrior women of the desert."

Nebakh exchanged glances with her witchsister. The witchsister glanced around at the assembled knights, then smiled mockingly and whispered into Nebakh's ear.

"We accept," the Headsister said at last. "Corunna is one of our best warriors." She beckoned to a Gerudo who wore her red hair chopped short and handled a pair of scimitars as though they were an extension of her body. "Bring your best; she will gladly fight him."

Lin glanced quickly about the courtyard; her eyes found Link's. She smiled and crooked a finger at him.

Obediently he went to her side and began to strip away the leather practice armor at his chest, arms, and throat; the Gerudo wore no armor, so it wouldn't be fair of him to wear any either. When Lin exchanged his practice sword for a real longsword, he bent slightly to whisper in her ear, "Why me?" He wasn't the best warrior here; he knew that as well as Lin. It seemed to him that a champion of the Silver Knights ought to battle a champion of the Gerudo.

"Use your brain, dolt," Lin chided as she helped him unlace his leather armguards. "Your fight here accomplishes two things. One, we get to show our guests that any of our warriors can take on their best. That ought to make them think more seriously about making peace with the king. Two, you get to show your skill before the king. You do want this chance, don't you?"

He did. Lin and Captain Benek were among the very few who knew Link's greatest ambition—to join the ranks of the White Knights. The company boasted only twenty or so men, but they were a force to be reckoned with. They were the best of the best, and only those personally chosen by the king could ascend to their ranks.

There was only one problem with Lin's plan. "What if I lose?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't."

He eyed his opponent as he settled a shield over his right arm. _Speed,_ he thought. That was probably her greatest asset. That was what to watch out for.

"Are you ready?" the king inquired as Link and Corunna faced one another. They bowed to each other, then to the king and headsister. "Do honor by your realms, your goddesses, and yourselves," Harkinian said firmly. "Begin!"

For a breath, neither of them moved. Link saw Corunna's dark eyes sizing him up. She smirked at him; he couldn't tell if she liked what she saw or thought that he would be easier to beat than a child with a wooden sword.

The Gerudo lunged at him with a high-pitched war cry, scimitars ready. Link blocked the downward arch of one and caught the side-sweep of another with his shield; he shoved all his weight to the right side. Corunna stumbled, off-balance, blocked his sword thrust and leapt back. She circled him slowly, eyeing him with more respect. Link shifted in place to remain facing her, smiling inwardly. She _was_ fast, but not terribly strong.

She struck at him several times, snake-like, darting in and retreating just as fast out of the reach of his sword. He blocked her each time, but his follow-up strikes couldn't touch her. Corunna gritted her teeth, plainly impatient with the game of cat and mouse. She shook sweat out of her eyes, then lunged at him, both scimitars thrusting directly ahead. Link shifted his shield, blocking her attack, but her momentum carried her forward; one scimitar slid away from his shield to bite into his upper arm. Link cursed and struck; she leapt back out of the range of his sword, grinning.

About to lower his sword and shield, he saw the gleam in her eyes and thought better of it. In the north, contests like these ended when blood was drawn. The savagery in her eyes told him that wasn't the way things were done in the desert. If he put down his guard now, she would probably maim or kill him.

His arm was neatly sliced, but he didn't think the cut was too deep. He shook the pain out of his shield arm as Corunna circled again, and thought. He hated matches like this. Chivalry told him to be honorable, but how could he maintain honor against an opponent who wouldn't stop until she killed him?

When Corunna lunged at him again, he blocked with his sword rather than shield, locking the weapons together. Corunna put her full weight behind her scimitars, clearing expecting him to strain back. Instead he smiled politely at her, hooked his heel around her ankle and yanked. The Gerudo sprawled on her back in the grass; Link placed the tip of his sword against her throat.

"Yield, please," he said gently. "I don't like killing."

Corunna stared up at him, expressionless. Satisfied that she wasn't going to try anything, Link stepped back and allowed her to climb to her feet.

The sound of applauding reached his ears. The king and princess were clapping for him, the knights cheering, Lin whistling and grinning. Even Nebakh and the Gerudo witchsister applauded reluctantly. "Your champion is quick and unpredictable," Nebakh told the king.

"Oh, he's not our champion." Lin clapped Link on the shoulder and smiled pleasantly at the Gerudo. "He's on his way, but he's a bit more work to do."

Nebakh stared at the sergeant, wide-eyed, clearly caught off guard.

"We look upon all our knights and soldiers as champions," King Harkinian said, his blue eyes finding each knight in turn. He looked the longest at Link. "We place in their capable hands the fate of our kingdom, and we cherish them as the treasure of our realm. They will defend and serve us always, so we must always strive to serve them."

"Undoubtedly you cherish also the Gerudo king among your jewels," Corunna muttered.

Link looked up, startled, and met Zelda's eyes. She wore the same expression of surprise, and he knew she had caught the remark her father appeared to miss.

Gerudo king? That didn't make any sense. The Gerudo had no monarchs. They didn't even have any men of their kind.

Except Ganondorf.

* * *

"What of it?" Ganondorf said later when Link and Zelda shared Corunna's remark. Zelda had snuck out of the palace to join them for a game of rummy outside the barracks. "They're always saying odd things about me. My mother used to tell me I would lead the Gerudo to glory. That was before I went north to join the king's army. Then she disowned me." He rolled his eyes. "Guess I won't be leading anything after all."

"The Venom Snake tribe doesn't seem to think so," Link said, taking a card from the pile.

Ganondorf shrugged. "Maybe they were talking about someone else. I know, I know," he added as his friends opened their mouths, "she said king. But the ladies sometimes take male titles just to prove they're as good as men, did you know that? A headsister, for example, is addressed as 'sir.' Now, a witchsister—"

"But she said the Gerudo king was among the knights and soldiers," Zelda interrupted.

Ganondorf frowned at his cards. "Whatever. They can say what they want. I'm not going back to the desert, not ever." He threw a card away and changed the subject. "Where'd you get that thing around your neck, Zelda?"

He was referring to a new necklace that Zelda wore in addition to her Triforce pendant. It was a row of diamonds set in silver, each bigger than the last until the middle diamond, which was the biggest of all.

Zelda blushed faintly. "My father gave it to me. For my birthday. I know it's a bit heavy—"

"Don't go swimming in it," Link joked. "You'll sink straight to the bottom."

Zelda glared at him. "It would be churlish of me not to wear it," she snapped. "Besides, Father said it makes me look prettier."

"You don't need a necklace to look pretty," Ganondorf said brusquely, placing a card in his set and throwing his last one away. "Game, set, and match."

* * *

To be continued.


	3. Prophecy

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

Many thanks to everyone reading and reviewing, and for the kind offers to beta. The Inimitable, a friend of mine from my forum, will be beta'ing this fiction from now on. One of my reviewers, whose left his/her name as Some Say The World Will End, had this to say: "Please say this will be an lz!" I'm not familiar with that term—what exactly is an 'lz'?

Hailfire Sano asked if Link will get the Master Sword in this fic. I certainly don't mind answering any questions you might have, so please feel free to ask them in your reviews, but some questions concerning Fallen Prophecy I won't answer because they might reveal spoilers. So I won't be saying anything just yet on the subject of the Master Sword. Keep reading and maybe you'll find out. :)

This chapter is the last of the previously-posted material. From Chapter 4 onward will be brand-new, never-before-seen plotty goodness.

* * *

Chapter 3

Prophecy

The peace talks were not going well. Link didn't need to be privy to them to see that. Friendly contests between Gerudo warriors and Hylian knights and soldiers suddenly weren't so friendly. More and more warriors on both sides were hurt trying to outdo each other in practice or combat. Perhaps worried about their conflicts with the Hylian soldiers and knights, the army captains cleared out a barrack and moved the Gerudo there, but the fights continued. Pavel, the captain of Ganondorf's company, authorized the Gerudos' use of army healers, but few Gerudo took advantage of the offer. They were a proud race dedicated to a fighter's way of life, warrior stoics who believed that strength lay in the ability to endure pain. Link admired their dedication.

They watched Ganondorf. Link knew his friend saw it, but predictably ignored it. Link couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Anyone who looked at him knew his heritage. In the north Gerudo were widely regarded as the lowest sort of bandits and entirely worthy of mistrust; many Hylians openly hated them. Ganondorf had spent years disassociating himself with his own race, and for all that and his loyalty to the Hylian king, he was still only a foot soldier in the army. Link thought it was unjust, and he knew Zelda did, too, but there was little they could do to change the deeply rooted opinions of many Hylians.

Zelda, too, had a lot to complain about. Ignoring her father's restriction, she snuck out of the palace nearly every night to join Link and Ganondorf and report on the peace talks, but there was little to discuss. Zelda herself was privy to only half the discussions, those about less important topics such as crop tallies and intermarriages. The talks of real issues, like border disputes, she was kept out of.

The border between the desert and Hyrule Field was one of the most important and most hotly disputed issues between the Gerudo and the Hylians. The Hyrulean Treaty stated that the northern portion of Hyrule Field, including the northwest sector which bordered the desert, belonged to Hylia, while the south was uncharted and unexplored land. The Kokiri, Gorons, and Sheikah, self-sufficient races, had no need for a portion of the field in which to grow crops, but the Gerudo had very few food sources in the desert. As part of the treaty, the Gerudo paid tariffs for a portion of Hyrule Field's crops, but lately the Gerudo were neglecting their taxes and eyeing the western sector of Hyrule Field with too much interest for Hylia's comfort. If they decided to attempt to break the border, it would mean war.

Kept out of the border talks, Zelda had no way of knowing how they progressed, and nothing to report to Link and Ganondorf. The kingdom waited with bated breath for the outcome of the discussions. Could the Gerudo make peace with the king, or would the talks end in war?

* * *

"Goddesses, I am sick of these banquets," Zelda snapped, her back turned to Impa as the Sheikah laced the bodice of a lavender gown. The princess wove ribbons through her pale hair, staring unhappily at her reflection in the mirror. "Another dinner companion, and he and I will undoubtedly be seated too far from my father and the ambassadors to catch a single word. I cannot even ask how the talks are going, never mind that I _should_ be privy to them. All of them."

"I don't know what you're complaining about," Impa said tartly, giving the laces a particularly hard jerk. "You're the princess, aren't you? The same one who wants to be queen? Then what are you pouting for? _Demand_ to be included in the talks. It's your right, isn't it?"

Zelda stared at her reflection, momentarily silenced. "Maybe," she said quietly at last. "But Impa, you don't understand. I cannot push my father. He has already—" She stopped and shook her head.

Impa sighed and turned Zelda to face her, tugging at a few strands of hair until they weren't in the princess's eyes. "He's already what? Go on, girl, I'm not about to bite your head off."

Zelda smiled wryly. "A month ago my father caught me in the weapons room with a practice sword in hand. I was merely hefting the weight. Mother said that in the Saman Highlands, women as well as men are trained to use swords, to protect their honor against rapists."

"So are Sheikah," Impa pointed out, adding dryly, "though our methods of defense are probably somewhat different from what you'd think."

"Sheikah are very odd," Zelda said fervently, and yelped as Impa tugged her hair. "Anyway—stop that!—my father was very angry. He said that women don't use weapons in this kingdom; it's shameful. He reminded me that there has never yet been a sole female sovereign of the Hylian Kingdom. That's when the suitors began coming."

"And?"

Zelda sighed. "Don't you see, Impa? If I'm not careful around my father—if I really make him angry someday—he might marry me off after all."

Impa took over the ribbon-weaving. "Why is your father so dead-set against his daughter succeeding him, anyway?"

"Perhaps it is not that he doubts my ability to rule," Zelda said fairly. "Perhaps it is that he doubts his subjects' willingness to accept me as ruler."

"He's wrong," Impa said decidedly. "There will always be some that won't like you, that's true. You can't win them all. But this kingdom knows you nearly as well as they know the king. They know that you're fair, just, and smart. You have the commoners' confidence because you spend so much time among them. And when you were born, Kylint, the Kakariko headman, heard the shadows welcome you. The Sheikah will support you, at least."

Zelda gaped at her bodyguard. "How do you know all this?"

"I listen. It's amazing what you'll hear when people pretend you aren't there. They go out of their way to ignore the presence of a Sheikah." Impa rolled her eyes.

"Because they're afraid. Your people could try to be less strange. I'm not sure that the Sheikah's support will be of any use to me." Zelda turned to scrutinize herself once more in the mirror. "I feel stupid and useless," she said crossly, "helplessly wondering whether war with the Gerudo will actually occur."

"Go to the banquet," Impa advised. "There'll be an interesting guest there that you should meet." The Sheikah hesitated. "Can you sneak out of the palace tonight?"

"I always do. Why?"

Zelda realized that her bodyguard was very tense. "There's someone else who wants to meet you. I don't like the idea. But he might be of use to you."

Zelda stared at the Sheikah, curiosity piqued. "Whom?"

Impa shook her head. "Not now. Just meet me in the Temple of Time at ten o'clock tonight."

When Zelda saw who was at dinner tonight, her jaw dropped. Link waited beside the doors to the Great Hall, dressed in his finest green tunic and white hose. He grinned at her when she approached, obviously amused by her surprise.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you," Zelda whispered when she was at his side, "but what in Din's name are you doing here?"

"Your dad sent me an invitation," he replied, gazing with interest at the couples filing by through the open doors. "Lin says it's a really good sign. She says he was impressed by my fight against that Gerudo. He might be considering me as a White Knight after all."

"Yes, but why invite you to supper?" Zelda asked impatiently.

Link grinned at her. "I'm your guest. I get to keep your suitors at arm's length, and you get to help me be on my best behavior. I wouldn't want the king to think my conduct is unbecoming of a White Knight."

Zelda liked that arrangement. "Well, Impa did say there'd be an interesting guest tonight."

Link frowned. "How would Impa know I'd be here?"

"She's a Sheikah. She knows everything. Now give me your arm and escort me to my seat."

"Right away, milady."

The arrangement was perfect. Noblemen's sons kept a polite distance when they saw she was already occupied by a male companion, and she didn't need to worry about keeping her dinner partner politely occupied. Zelda and Link entertained themselves with wicked observations of the Hylian court.

"This is the best dinner I've had in a long time," Zelda said happily. "I'm going to tell my father that I simply _love_ your company. He'll think we're halfway to engagement and seat me with you every night."

"You mean we're not halfway to engagement?" Link inquired. He sighed in mock disappointment. "To think of all those lonely nights I've wasted…"

Zelda elbowed him, grinning. "Too bad Ganondorf isn't here. I bet he'd enjoy it."

"Would he?" Link asked dryly. "Everyone would probably be staring at him and whispering."

"No one's staring and whispering at the ambassadors," Zelda pointed out, though she knew he was right.

Nebakh and Farim sat at the king's right hand, conversing intently with the queen. Zelda stared at them in silence for a moment, wishing she knew what they were talking about.

"You need a spy," Link remarked, interpreting her silence correctly.

Zelda blinked at him. "A spy?"

"Yeah. You know, someone to infiltrate the peace talks and report back to you."

"Hylia doesn't have a spymaster. Even if it did, the spies would report to my father. There's no one daring or skilled enough to spy on the king himself," Zelda said dismissively. "Though it would certainly be useful."

After supper, the court moved into a ballroom off the side of the Great Hall. Pages and footmen moved among the crowd, offering drinks and light desserts, while musicians played softly in a side gallery. "Now we make small talk and drink to each other's health," Zelda said dryly. "Popular topics include the latest fashions and who is sharing whose bed."

Link winced. "You do this every night?"

"Almost. It's enough to make you want to tear your hair out."

To Zelda's acute relief, her mother found them before anyone else could. "Good evening, Master Link," she greeted the knight courteously as he bowed.

"Good evening, Your Majesty."

Leona smiled at her daughter. "Dare I say it? You look rather as though you're enjoying yourself."

"I am, Mother," Zelda replied airily. "Link is _fascinating_ company."

"She flatters me, Your Majesty," Link added, pretending to blush.

Leona grinned, white teeth flashing against scarlet lips. "Save that act for my lord. We have an interesting guest tonight from Kakariko, would you two like to meet her?"

"From Kakariko?" Zelda echoed. "A Sheikah?"

Leona shrugged. "Perhaps. I wouldn't know for sure. She calls herself Fallen."

Link and Zelda stared at each other, shocked. Leona didn't seem to notice. "Come, let's not keep her waiting."

"Do you think it's her?" Zelda asked Link in a low voice as they followed her mother through the crowd.

"Got to be," Link muttered. "Who else could it be?"

"Why is she here?" Zelda wondered aloud. "What does she want?"

When they saw the tall, starkly beautiful woman at King Harkinian's side, there was no doubt. Her eyes had changed—they were a sharp, dark brown instead of pure white—but there was no mistaking the jet-black hair or pale, intensely beautiful face. She wore a dark, plain shift and her hair fell to her waist, unlike most females of the court, who pinned theirs atop their heads.

Harkinian nodded as they approached. Link bowed; Zelda curtsied. "Daughter, Master Link, this is Fallen. The Sheikah Impa introduced her to us. She is a fortune teller, it seems."

Fallen looked at all of them in turn, her eyes resting the longest on Link and Zelda's faces. "I shall peer into your eyes and see what future fate weaves for you. Her Majesty first," she said with a slight bow to Queen Leona.

"It would be an insult to refuse," Zelda muttered to Link as Leona approached.

Fallen merely glanced into Leona's eyes before announcing, "You know your fate already, lady. Nothing I say will change it." She beckoned to the king.

"Whisper your fortune, please," the king requested. Fallen complied, gazing into Harkinian's eyes for a few moments, then bending slightly—she was taller than even the king—to whisper in his ear. When Harkinian stepped back, Zelda could not read the expression on his face. She wondered what he had heard.

Fallen glanced between Link and Zelda. "Your fates are intertwined. I must gaze into you together."

She looked for a long time at Link, then turned her gaze to Zelda. A faraway look appeared suddenly in her dark eyes. Slowly the dark shade of her iris and pupil faded away, leaving her eyes white once again.

The woman went rigid, limbs trembling slightly. She opened her mouth and spoke in a voice that tolled through the ballroom like a great bell.

"_As the first century in the Age of the Goddesses wanes three shall appear, and they will be the best of friends. The north will be plagued by malady; they will die in the streets of the castle town. The west against the north shall rise, and the land torn asunder by war. At this time the three will be strongest in their union. One will take power and lead the north in battle against the west. But rejoice not at the end of these dark days, for it is but the calm before the storm."_

The great, ringing voice abruptly stopped, leaving utter silence in its wake. Color slowly returned to her eyes as Fallen swayed where she stood. Then her knees gave way and she fell into Link's arms.

The ballroom burst into sound, voices rising and falling in nervous chatter. People stood in groups, eyes wide as they spoke to one another. The king and queen stood off to the side; Harkinian's face was red and Leona was talking softly and quickly, her hand on his arm, calming him. Farim whispered in her headsister's ear; Nebakh's glittering eyes were fixed on the king.

Link and Zelda stood alone in the confusion, staring down at the limp, unconscious Fallen. Link looked up at Zelda, wonder in his open face. "She's feather light. Like she's hollow inside. Like a porcelain doll."

"Well," Zelda said stupidly, "I think it's safe to say she isn't Sheikah."

The king finally took notice of them; he was at their side in an instant, hefting Fallen's slight weight from Link's arms and calling for a healer. His clear, firm voice restored some semblance of order to the ballroom. Lords and ladies crowded around the king and prophet as a healer rushed forward. No one noticed Link and Zelda slip quietly out of the ballroom.

They hurried through the halls of the palace, all but empty save for a lone servant or two, heading in the direction from which they came. Important news blew through the palace like wind; probably nearly everyone knew of Fallen's prophecy already.

"Well, she certainly put the fox among the chickens," Link muttered as they strode purposefully through the red-carpeted corridors. "You think she really saw the future back there?"

"Undoubtedly," Zelda said grimly. "That was no party trick. There was a power inside her. I heard it. I felt it."

Link nodded. "Now I do wish Ganondorf had been there. If what she said was true, war with the Gerudo is practically inevitable."

They halted at the foot of the double staircases in the Great Foyer. "You'd better go tell Ganondorf what we heard tonight," Zelda advised, checking the watch chain. It was nearly ten. "I have to meet Impa in the Temple of Time."

"What for?"

"There's someone who wants to meet me, she says."

Link gripped her arm before she could move away. "Zelda—that 'interesting guest' Impa spoke of. She wasn't talking about me, was she?"

Zelda smiled wryly. "Mother did say Fallen came from Kakariko. Let me go, Link, I'm going to be late."

The two parted ways, Link to the barracks to talk to Ganondorf, Zelda to the road to the Temple of Time. When she arrived she found Impa outside the temple, leaning against the doors. The Sheikah glanced up as Zelda approached, then looked away.

"He's inside. I want you to know that I had nothing to do with this. It was Kylint's doing." Impa stood aside to let Zelda pass. Thoroughly perplexed by Impa's words and manner, the princess entered the silent temple.

* * *

To be continued.


	4. Spy

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

Yay for new material! This chapter and all those to follow are brand-new, never before posted writing. Also, as you've undoubtedly noticed, the update speed has slowed down. It's my hope to post approximately a chapter a week, but we'll see how things go. Writer's block is always a factor that has slowed me down at spots on every fic I've written thus far. But I know how frustrating it is to wait forever for new chapters, so I'll try to keep updates as consistent as possible.

Thanks to everyone who cleared up the "lz" mystery. I had kind of a "duh" moment there. ;; I'm just used to seeing it written as L/Z or Zelink or just plain Link/Zelda. To answer the original question…well, maybe you'll find out eventually. :3

* * *

Chapter 4  
Spy

For a moment Zelda saw nothing as her eyes adjusted to the dark inside the cathedral. Watery moonlight filtered in through the gilded windows, lighting the temple with a soft silvery glow. Once she could see, Zelda stared around briefly, confused. The hall was completely empty.

Or was it? A prickling on the back of her neck told Zelda she wasn't alone. Someone was watching her. Her heart thudded in her chest as she remembered Impa's words: _I want you to know I had nothing to do with this…_

"Who is there?" she demanded, her voice clear and bereft of any nervousness. "Show yourself immediately."

She heard a soft _thwap_ behind her, and whirled around to see a small, wiry shape rise from a crouch.

Zelda stared into blood-red eyes over a makeshift linen mask. He looked to be about her age, though it was difficult to tell with the mask covering the lower half of his face; his hair was a pale blond, similar to hers, a few silken strands falling over his right eye. He dressed in a formfitting outfit of royal blue and a tattered white tunic embroidered with the image of a crimson eye shedding a lone tear—the Sheikah eye symbol.

He inclined his head in a short bow, but his eyes remained boldly fixed on hers. "My apologies, Your Highness. People like me are best suited for hiding in the shadows, wouldn't you agree?"

His voice was light and male, persuasive. The instant Zelda heard that voice, she knew she didn't trust him any farther than she could throw him. It seemed to her the kind of voice that could trick her into selling her soul, if she wasn't careful.

"You're Sheikah," she said, giving herself time to recover her scattered thoughts.

"Yes. My name is Sheik."

"What do you want from me?"

"The _regus_ sent me." Zelda knew the word—it referred to the leader of a Sheikah tribe. He meant Kakariko's headman, Kylint. "I am to do whatever is required. A person of my skills may be very useful to you."

"And what is it that you do, Master Sheik?"

"I hide, and I listen."

Zelda blinked at him, engrossed despite herself. A fascinating notion occurred to her as she remembered Link's words at supper. Could it be…?

"Are you a spy, Master Sheik?"

"Just Sheik. Your Highness." Was that laughter in his voice?

Zelda gave him a measuring stare. Impa had told her that people went out of their way to ignore a Sheikah. This one, slender and barely taller than her, looked as though he were at home in the shadows. And if she was not mistaken, he had been hiding in the temple's rafters when she entered. To do that—not to mention jump from such a height and land unhurt—he must be extremely acrobatic.

Hylia didn't have spies, but with all the strangeness occurring lately in the kingdom, it seemed they could use one. "We'd best go to the palace," she said decidedly. "I'll introduce you to my parents, and they can decide how and where you can be best used."

"My apologies, but I think you misunderstand." A disturbing light appeared in his crimson eyes. Somehow Zelda knew he was smiling. "I serve none but Your Highness alone."

Zelda froze at his words. It was the opportunity she had hoped and prayed for. With Sheik, she could know all that went on during the talks with the Gerudo. It didn't matter what secret meetings she was kept out of. She would no longer be blind and deaf to the future.

She didn't trust him. A part of her even feared him. But she would have to be an utter fool to pass up an opportunity like this.

A smile crossed her face, in spite of herself. "The possibilities are dazzling."

* * *

In the days after Fallen's prophecy, the Gerudo were conspicuously innocent. Contests between Gerudo and Hylian warriors returned to friendly displays of skills. The peace talks reportedly were going well, with the Gerudo cooperating and agreeing on points that they had previously disputed. Though the king had the tribe watched, they did nothing suspicious and sent no messages to their sisters in the desert aside from their own reports on the progress of the peace talks. No one knew what to make of it.

Link was of the opinion that the Gerudo were up to something. Their behavior was so innocent it was suspicious. He wasn't the only one who shared this view—he overheard Lin telling Benek that she was betting on war before the end of the summer. Others took a more optimistic outlook, saying that Fallen's predictions were nonsense and that the Gerudo clearly wanted peace as much as the Hylians.

If Ganondorf had an opinion about the situation, he didn't share it, and Zelda merely said there was no evidence in what Fallen had predicted. Once the pandemonium over Fallen's prophecy had died, many seemed to lose interest in what the woman had said and treated the whole thing like some sort of party trick.

Link himself wondered whether he believed what Fallen had said. Seers were rare, and usually were of the Sheikah; fortune telling was a business he had never held any stock in. But something had moved through Fallen when she spoke on that night, something ancient and powerful, something he'd felt like an ache deep in his bones. He didn't know what to make of it.

The day after Fallen made her prophecy, Zelda told Link and Ganondorf that her father had changed his mind and allowed her to attend the border talks. Link was surprised to hear that. King Harkinian was a man who rarely backed down from his decisions, whether they concerned the kingdom or his daughter. But certainly it was useful to learn, through Zelda, everything that went on during the talks, even if there was little to report these days.

The summer slowly waned, as taut as a hair stretched over a knife edge. Link spent the days going through the motions of his usual routines, waiting to hear of a change. He prayed that an agreement would be reached soon, and a treaty signed.

One hazy day in mid-August, Link was practicing archery alone in the courtyard, working off some of his tension, when someone hailed him. He glanced up to see Lin hurrying toward him, her mouth drawn with worry.

"I had this from Captain Pavel, from the army," she said tersely upon reaching his side, keeping her voice low. "You know a soldier named Ganondorf?"

Link stared at her in alarm. "Yes, he's one of my best friends. Did something happen?"

"Pavel didn't know if he had any family or not, so he said to tell you. Your friend's been arrested."

Link dropped his bow. _"What?"_

"He was accused of conspiring with the Gerudo. Supposedly members of the Venom Snake Tribe have been approaching him. You know the king's decree—any encounters with a Gerudo aside from official business and contests of arms are to be reported immediately."

Link nodded reluctantly. The king had passed his word throughout the kingdom after Fallen's prophecy, to help keep their guests under close scrutiny.

"Well, he never reported those encounters, and he won't say what the Gerudo spoke with him about. A soldier in his squad saw him speaking with them and reported it, and the palace guard took him into custody."

Link nodded grimly. There was no doubt in his mind that no conspiracy existed between Ganondorf and the Venom Snake Tribe, but he knew that there were many who would see it differently. It didn't help that Ganondorf was a Gerudo by birth.

Lin squeezed his shoulder anxiously. "I'm sure it's all just a big misunderstanding."

"Right," Link said grimly. "If you'll excuse me, Lin, I need to go try and sort this out."

Lin nodded. "If there's anything I can do…"

Link bowed, then hurried to put his weapon away. In the storage shed, he found a piece of parchment and scribbled a note on it to Zelda, then found a footman in the courtyard outside and asked him to take it to the princess. She ought to know, and she might be able to do something about the situation.

The same footman soon found him as he strode through the lower levels of the palace. Scribbled on the back of the same piece of parchment was a brisk, angry note from Zelda. She already knew what had happened, and was on her way to see her father immediately. Link folded the parchment and thanked the footman, then continued on his way down to the dungeons where they would be holding his friend, hoping Zelda could take care of the situation quickly.

In the dungeons, the guards eyed Link suspiciously, but they led him to the cell where Ganondorf was held. The Gerudo sat with his back against the dank, damp wall, staring blankly into space before him. He glanced up when Link approached, and his mouth twisted wryly.

"So now I'm a conspirator," he remarked as though continuing a conversation over dinner. "The Gerudo who approached me haven't been accused, of course. No one wants to endanger the peace talks. But I am more than expendable."

Link wrapped his hands around the bars of his friend's cell, disgusted with himself for being helpless. "Zelda's taking care of this right now," he assured. "You'll be out of there in no time."

Ganondorf smiled bitterly. "It's done damage, Link."

Link knew what he meant. Those who disliked him because he was Gerudo would mistrust him all the more because of this incident, wrongfully accused or not.

He checked to make sure no guards were nearby to listen. "What did they want with you, Ganondorf?"

"They wanted me to come back to the desert. My place is among my people, they said. I refused."

"Did they—" Link was interrupted as the door at the end of the row of cells creaked open and Zelda stalked in, the guards in tow.

"Let him out, now," the princess snapped when she reached the cell where Ganondorf and Link waited. A guard hastened to obey, unlocking Ganondorf's cell and standing aside.

"You're free to go."

Ganondorf looked from the guard to the princess, then unfolded himself slowly from his seat against the wall and ambled out of the cell. Zelda patted his arm, and the three of them left the dungeons without another word to the guards, ascending the stairs into the higher levels of the palace.

"That was fast," Ganondorf remarked when they'd left the dungeons far behind.

Zelda was positively seething. "I went to Father and told him that I knew you well enough to know you were _not_ conspiring with any Gerudo. He granted you a pardon."

"Generous of him." Ganondorf's voice was extremely dry.

"As if they had any right to arrest you in the first place!" Zelda burst out savagely. "All right, if you had actually approached any Gerudo there might have been cause for suspicion, but since _they_ came to _you—_" She stopped and took a deep breath. "Why didn't you just report them?"

Ganondorf gave her a withering look. "I'm not _you,_ princess. I'm a Gerudo, remember? Can you honestly say they wouldn't have thought I was conspiring even if I reported it myself? They probably would have arrested me on the spot regardless."

"But—" Zelda traded a helpless glance with Link. He was right, and they both knew it.

"Not everyone sees things as you do, Zelda. Not everyone has your idealism." He turned down a side hall that would lead him out of the keep. "I'm going back to the barracks. I'll see you two later."

Link and Zelda watched him go. "I guess he's angry. Can't really blame him," Link sighed.

"_I_ am angry," Zelda said passionately. "As if arresting Ganondorf wasn't enough, I don't suppose anyone stopped to think how the Gerudo will react."

Link glanced at her, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Zelda made a face. "You know how proud they are. They have their own strict code of justice, and they don't appreciate outside interference. Ganondorf might not be on their side, but he's still a Gerudo. His arrest might affect the peace talks."

Link considered that. "I guess we have to hope he isn't that important to the Gerudo," he said at last, feeling rotten for saying it.

Zelda smiled bitterly. "Yes. If you'll excuse me, Link, I have to take care of some things."

"All right." Link squeezed her shoulder. "I'll see you later then, Zelda."

Zelda briefly covered his hand with hers, then headed off down the corridor. Link watched her go, momentarily wondering how she'd found out about Ganondorf's arrest before his note even reached her.

He'd ask her next time he saw her, he decided, and followed Ganondorf back to the barracks.

* * *

To be continued.


	5. Malady

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed Chapter 4, I'm very glad everyone is enjoying this fiction. As always, I welcome any suggestions you may have for its improvement, or any questions.

Crimson-88 asked, "Will Ganondorf actually turn evil or will he remain on the good side?" Good question. I think I can safely say that out of the main trio, Ganondorf is probably the most integral to the plot of this story. So I can't answer many questions about him. He's a bit of an enigma right now, but in coming chapters we'll learn more about his past and his future.

CronoMaster, you're welcome to use Link's fight against Corunna in Chapter 2 as you suggested in your review. Thank you for asking permission first.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 5  
Malady

In early September, the first reports of sickness came from Castletown—a fever was swiftly spreading through the lower city. Late summer rains left the streets damp and unsanitary, perfect conditions for breeding disease. The king sent palace healers into the lower city to attempt to halt the illness's spread before it began, but the healers were outmatched. The fever soon reached the higher city, into the homes of nobles and wealthy merchants.

The healers' powers waned as they battled the disease. The very young and old were afflicted the worst. Some recovered quickly, but by the time those who had fallen ill sank into delirium, it was often too late to help them.

When the fever at last reached the palace, Zelda and the queen were among those who fell ill. Fortunately, Zelda's strain was mild, requiring no more than several days of bed rest and isolation from those who might be susceptible to the illness, which meant a lonely, boring week for the princess once the worst of the fever had passed. Her only visitors were the healers, who came twice daily to check her, and her spy, Sheik.

The Sheikah scaled the keep wall and entered by her balcony every evening with disturbing ease, slipping out as swiftly and silently as a shadow once he gave his report. He seemed to have no fear of the disease at all, though even Impa stayed away. Zelda didn't forbid him to come—it was the only way she could find out what was happening outside her bedroom, after all—but she was not happy about it.

She had not yet told Link and Ganondorf about her new source of information. She wasn't sure exactly why. Partly, she supposed, she worried that someone might find out about her spy and report him to her father, and partly she thought Link and Ganondorf wouldn't trust him.

She didn't trust him. He was a goddess-send, there was no denying that—thanks to Sheik, she knew everything that went on in the peace talks and virtually every move the Gerudo made. He had known not only when and where the fever had first appeared, but the names of everyone who was initially afflicted by it. He had even informed Zelda about Ganondorf's arrest before Link's message reached her, which confirmed her suspicion that he was watching not only the Gerudo tribe, but her friends as well. There was no doubt in her mind that he was also watching her.

Worried about her mother, who she was unable to visit because of her own quarantined state, Zelda asked the healers every day about her condition. They assured her that the queen's fever, though serious, was passing; that she was receiving the best of care; that there was nothing to be concerned about. The worry and strain in their faces told a different story.

One night, when Sheik slipped into her room after dark to give his report, she steeled herself to ask him, "How is my mother?"

"She is one of the sickest in the palace or Castletown," the Sheikah told her without the bat of an eye. "This morning she went into delirium. The healers don't leave her side, but there's little they can do."

Zelda smoothed her bedcovers with shaking hands. She was not going to cry, especially in front of him. There was nothing she could do for her mother; if she tried to visit before she was fully recovered, she might only worsen Leona's condition.

When she'd gotten herself under control, she ordered, "Tell me what you know of this disease."

He gave her plenty to think about. The healers' power had little effect on the most dangerous strains of the fever, though they fought it with all their strength. Only after many of the healers in the kingdom were drained of their power, Sheik pointed out, had the disease reached the palace. No one yet knew where the disease had come from; Kakariko, the Kokiri Forest, the desert and numerous towns across Hyrule Field reported no afflictions. And although the illness spread across the Hylian Kingdom, no Gerudo in the Venom Snake Tribe had yet succumbed to it.

The picture he painted was all too clear. "There's little that can be done about it," she said quietly. "We can't accuse the Gerudo without any proof. It would jeopardize everything we've worked for."

Sheik looked at her with his unfathomable crimson eyes. "When the Sheikah discover a traitor in their midst, we spill their blood in the dirt and ask questions later."

Zelda suppressed a shiver. "Your people have more in common with the Gerudo than you think," she said in her driest voice. "Go now, before someone finds you here. My mother—" She swallowed. "Watch her, please. Let me know if there's any change in her condition."

He gave her an ironic salute and backed out the balcony doors, disappearing easily into the night. Zelda sat and stared out her windows for a long time, thinking. He had given her serious matters to consider.

* * *

The fever's spread began to slow at last, thanks to the quarantine of the sick in Castletown and the palace, but a long, hard battle remained ahead for Hylia's citizens. Through the weeks of September the healers waged war with the illness, fighting to save as many as possible. The dead were taken from Castletown each day and burned in Hyrule Field; the mass funeral pyre could be seen constantly lit throughout the days and nights of early autumn.

Though the palace's soldiers and knights were a hardy group, many succumbed to the illness and were quarantined. The Silver Knights' numbers were sadly reduced during practice. Link was one of the fortunate ones not to fall ill, but there were plenty others to worry about, including Zelda and the queen. He and Ganondorf worked and practiced together during the princess's quarantine and tried not to worry about their friend. If anything went wrong, Impa would let them know.

Link didn't realize Zelda had recovered and left quarantine until one night the barrack door swung open and Ganondorf came in, accompanied by a short, hunched figure in a long, hooded cloak. He led his companion over to Link's bunk, a hand on her shoulder.

Link peered under the hood. "Zelda?"

The princess lowered the hood silently. Her eyes were red-rimmed and there were tell-tale tracks down her pale cheeks. "What happened?" Link demanded, startled.

"I found her wandering around the courtyard like this," Ganondorf explained. "She said she was coming to see us."

Zelda sank down onto the bunk next to Link, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice was strangled when she said, "Mother's fever is at its highest yet. The healers are afraid she won't live through the night."

"Farore's mercy," Link whispered, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Ganondorf. The Gerudo sank down onto his own bunk across from Link's and drew the sign of the Triforce on his chest.

"The healers told you that?" Ganondorf asked.

"No," Zelda said, sniffling. "I heard it from—from one of the guards." She looked at them pleadingly. "Can I stay here tonight? I don't want to be in the palace alone. If something happens to her while I'm asleep—"

Link nodded readily, squeezing her hand. "Of course you can stay. Do they know where you are?"

Zelda nodded. "Impa does. She said she'll let me know if there's any change."

"We'll wait up, then. I'm sure your mother will be fine." Link glanced up, meeting Ganondorf's eyes again; the Gerudo smiled crookedly. Link read the thoughts behind his friend's amber eyes—he doubted Queen Leona would live the night. Link wanted to hope the queen would fight her illness; he could only pray his words to Zelda weren't foolhardy.

It was a long, exhausting night. The two men persuaded Zelda to eat; they played card games and talked, anything to keep the princess from dwelling on her mother. The hours wore on, and no news came from the palace. Link prayed this meant the queen was fighting.

Zelda dozed off against Link's shoulder as the sky began to lighten. Link had barely nodded off himself when Ganondorf shook his shoulder lightly to wake him.

"Hm?" He peered blearily at his friend.

"Impa just came." The Gerudo was smiling. "The queen's fever broke. They think she'll recover."

Zelda wept with relief when they woke her and told her the news, thanked them and hurried out of the barracks and back to the palace to see her mother for herself. The two saw her off, then returned to the barracks, where Ganondorf sank back on his bunk with a sigh.

"I guess we can't hope to get any shut-eye. The first call will come any moment." He lay back with his hands behind his head, eyes closed. "Today ought to be fun."

Link sat on his own bunk, thinking hard. "Ganondorf?"

His friend opened an eye. "Hm?"

Link hesitated. "The Venom Snake Tribe," he said at last, keeping his voice low. "Have any of them gotten sick?"

Ganondorf opened both eyes and looked at him sharply. "No," he said slowly. "No, they haven't."

They looked at one another for a long moment. At last Ganondorf seemed to read the question Link was afraid to ask, and closed his eyes again with a twisted smile. "The witchsisters are powerful. They know all sorts of nasty little curses."

Link nodded grimly. "There's no proof."

"No, no proof at all." Ganondorf opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling. "Don't spare them because they're my people, Link. There's little they're above." He sighed and sat up, stretching long, muscular limbs. "Zelda ought to hear what you're thinking. She can warn her father, at least."

But Zelda was already thinking along the same lines, as they found out when they next spoke. She had tried to speak with her father about it, with little success.

"He just tells me I've been listening to too many old wives' tales," Zelda sighed. Relief and worry for her mother, coupled with her own battle with the fever, had left her thin, worn and even paler than usual. "Mind you, he is preoccupied with my mother, among other matters."

Link and Ganondorf nodded. The queen's health was returning, but her recovery was slow and difficult. The fever was waning at last and attention returning to the Gerudo; the kingdom waited with bated breath for a treaty to be drawn up and signed. It _should _have happened weeks ago, Link thought. The Gerudo were delaying far longer than necessary.

He wondered sometimes what had become of Fallen. Did she know that part of her prediction had come true? Had she returned to wherever she came from, or was she still here in the kingdom somewhere, waiting for the rest of her prophecy to unfold?

Try as he might, Link couldn't shake the feeling that she would soon get quite a show.

* * *

It was hours before dawn when Zelda awoke hot and restless in her bedroom. She stared into the darkness of her room, wondering what had woken her so abruptly.

A shadow by her balcony doors moved. Zelda bolted upright.

"Sheik!" she hissed. "What are you _doing?"_

He moved forward into a patch of moonlight, where she could see him. Even in her dim room his crimson eyes were all too clear. "The Gerudo are gone," he said simply.

Zelda stared at him, forgetting her anger. _"What?"_

"At sundown tonight, they began to trickle one-by-one into the Castletown." His eyes flickered with something—amusement? Zelda wondered. "They climbed over the curtain wall and escaped into Hyrule Field. No one saw them go."

"Except you." Zelda's anger was returning. "And didn't you think to stop them? Or at least _tell_ someone?"

Clear amusement showed in his eyes. "Stop them? I am one Sheikah, Highness, and they are a tribe of enemies. The Gerudo do not forgive, and nor do the Sheikah. If my death started a war between the Gerudo and the Sheikah—that is the sort of thing you want to discourage, isn't it?"

"Then you should have told someone," Zelda said, frustrated that he was right and that he knew her so well. "A guard, or—"

"I have told you, because I serve you," he interrupted. "Not a guard, Your Highness. Not your father the king. _You."_ The disturbing light in his blood-red eyes deepened. "You know what this means, of course."

"War," Zelda whispered, her mouth dry. "It means war."

* * *

To be continued.


	6. War

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

This might be the last update for a couple of weeks. The semester is winding down for me—next week is finals week, in fact—and between the million-plus-one papers and presentations and assignments and final projects I need to do, I'm not getting nearly enough time to work on this story as I'd like. But we'll see how things go.

* * *

Chapter 6  
War

Zelda bit her lip as she weighed her options. Her instinct was to go to her father immediately and tell him what she had learned, but caution gripped her fast. If she told her father of the Gerudo's disappearance, there _might_ be a chance to stop them in Hyrule Field before they reached the border of the Gerudo nation. Either way, the Gerudo's actions were an act of war; nothing could prevent it now. And if she went to her father with this information, she would have to reveal where it came from.

No good would come of this situation, no matter what she did. Let her father find out about the Gerudo tribe's disappearance in the morning.

There was, however, something she needed to do. "I've got to get to the barracks," Zelda murmured as she swung out of bed and threw a robe on over her nightshift, aware that Sheik's eyes followed her every movement. Then she hesitated. She had never tried to sneak out of the palace from her bedroom before; the royal wing was crawling with guards. It would be a miracle if she managed it unseen.

She looked sharply at Sheik. "Can you get me out of the palace and down to the barracks?"

"Of course," he replied, amused. "It won't be a stroll in the garden, but I can do it."

Zelda nodded as she slipped into a pair of shoes. "Lead the way, then."

In response, he offered a hand to her. Zelda hesitated, then took it. Swiftly he pulled her close and twined a hard, slender arm around her waist, backing out the open balcony doors. She gulped as Sheik gripped the railing with his free hand. Hoisting her weight, he vaulted nimbly over the balcony rail.

Zelda made the mistake of looking at the courtyard four stories below her dangling feet, and immediately shut her eyes, fighting the urge to vomit. Three times Sheik fell, arresting the sickening drops by gripping or landing on something. His arm was a band of iron around her waist, holding her firmly against him. Zelda would have been impressed by the slight Sheikah's strength, were she not so busy praying.

At last they thumped softly onto blessedly solid ground. Zelda reeled as she stepped away from Sheik, her head spinning; the Sheikah gripped her arm until she found her balance. "Thank you," she muttered.

His eyes laughed at her. "Come." The hand on her arm tugged, leading her through the darkness.

Whenever Zelda snuck out of the palace, she managed the short trip between the keep and the barracks very slowly and carefully, dodging sentries and guards making their rounds. Sheik led her quickly and easily through deserted parts of the courtyards, gardens, and practice yards, as if he knew exactly when each and every guard would be at every moment. To someone who had lived in the palace all her life, his ease at navigating the grounds was both bothersome and disturbing.

Zelda put it out of her mind, along with a number of other suspicions and questions about Sheik. He was immensely valuable to her as a spy; it was best not to think about anything other than that.

They reached the barracks far quicker than Zelda would have managed on her own, and dawdled in the shadows beside one of the open windows. Zelda hesitated, but she knew perfectly well that Sheik would be able to slip in and out without being noticed far easier than she would. What she was about to do could be considered treason. She could not risk getting caught.

"Go in and find my friend Ganondorf," she ordered in a whisper at last. "Tell him you're a messenger from me, and bring him out here. Don't wake anyone else, and no matter what, _you_ _must not be seen,_ do you understand?"

Sheik made a dismissive noise and slid in through the window. Zelda wasn't sure if he was making light of her concern or reprimanding her for thinking he might get caught, and prayed it was the latter.

She needn't have worried. Mere moments had passed before movement caught her attention; Sheik slipped silently out the door at the end of the barracks, followed by Ganondorf. The Gerudo spotted her, rubbed sleep from his eyes, and scowled.

"Isn't it a little late for social calls?" he barked. "And who is _he,_ anyway?" He jerked a thumb at Sheik.

"Please, keep your voice down," she whispered furtively, grabbing his arm and towing him into the shadows. "Never mind about him. And this isn't a social call. There's something you need to know."

Ganondorf raised his brows at her. "What?"

Zelda took a breath and plunged right in. "The Gerudo are gone. All of them. They snuck out of the kingdom and are presumably on their way back to the desert."

Ganondorf's jaw dropped. "They _what?" _he yelped.

"Shh!" Zelda glanced around furtively, but only Sheik was nearby, keeping an eye out for sentries or soldiers on their way to the latrine. "No one knows this except the three of us. I can't tell my father—he'll find out in the morning anyway. But I needed to warn you."

Ganondorf seemed stunned. "But—that's crazy. Why would they do that? The king will go to war with them for certain—"

"Maybe that's what they desire," Sheik remarked.

Zelda and Ganondorf glanced at the Sheikah, then at each other. Zelda drew the sign of the Triforce on her chest. "It's just like Fallen said. Her predictions are coming true."

Ganondorf shook his head. "This is insanity," he muttered, "pure and simple." His eyes met Zelda's. "Why tell me? I'd have found out in the morning too."

Zelda hesitated, then gripped his arm. "Listen to me. You should leave, Ganondorf. We'll be going to war for certain. My father can't ignore this incident—"

Ganondorf jerked his arm away. "Are you telling me to desert?" he demanded tightly, remembering to keep his voice low.

"They _are_ your people—"

"No, they're not," he interrupted, eyes hard. "Maybe they were once, but that was a long time ago. The Hylians are my people, Zelda—_you_ are my people. You and Link. I won't abandon either of you."

His words made Zelda's throat go tight with emotion. "Are you sure?" she whispered. "We both know my father—my father has not always done right by you."

"But _you_ have," Ganondorf insisted, squeezing her shoulder. "When you become queen, do I swear my loyalty to you only then? Or do I pledge it now, and prove to you I'll always keep it?"

"I would never doubt it!" Zelda cried, shocked. "I would never—"

"Then don't ask me to desert."

Zelda looked into his eyes and saw that he meant it. "I'm sorry," she said humbly. "I just wanted to warn you. I shouldn't have said anything."

He patted his shoulder. "I appreciate your worry, in any case. I know this isn't exactly going to be a picnic."

She nodded, throat tight again. "Promise me, Ganondorf—"

"We must leave," Sheik interrupted quietly. "Now."

"Promise me you'll stay safe, you and Link—" The Sheikah grabbed her arm and towed her easily away from the barracks, once more surprising her with his strength. "Don't get yourselves killed!" Zelda whispered. Ganondorf saluted and headed back inside the barrack, just as a guard on his rounds came into view.

Zelda managed the trip back to her bedroom with Sheik's help. Once the Sheikah had deposited her in her room and left, she sat down on her bed, prepared to wait the night out. Morning would come all too soon. In the meantime, she had a lot of prayers to say.

* * *

The first bell of the morning boomed long and slow, three times, waking Link rudely and abruptly from a dreamless sleep. He lay on his back in his bunk and stared at the ceiling, listening to the bell with growing unease. In his many years at the palace, he had only heard the bell ring like that once or twice, but he knew what it meant. Something had happened in the palace, something bad.

He glanced at Ganondorf. The Gerudo too lay awake on his bunk, his eyes ringed with dark circles, as though he'd gotten little sleep. He saw Link watching him and put a finger to his lips.

As the sun rose over the Hylian Kingdom, no messenger came to explain the warning bells, but Captain Benek and Sergeant Lin were conspicuously absent from the Silver Knights' morning practice. The other four squads began practice under their sergeants while Lin's waited. After fifteen minutes or so, Lin's corporal, Thor, shrugged and ordered, "Into pairs, and practice the advanced sword routine! Now, lads, now!"

As they practiced, Link began to notice another conspicuous absence. By this time it was typical for several Gerudo to join their practice, drilling and engaging in mock combat with the knights, but today they were nowhere to be seen.

The morning was well on its way when Lin appeared, calling a halt to their practice. The other sergeants gave the same order, and the Silver Knights gathered around Captain Benek.

The good-natured captain was unusually sober. "King's orders, boys," he said quietly. "War has been declared on the Gerudo."

The knights cried out in shock. Benek held up a hand to quiet them and continued, "Last night the Gerudo snuck out of the palace. They were long gone by the time their disappearance was discovered, presumably back to the desert. We also received word that Lon-Lon was attacked by two tribes during the night." He named a town close to the border of the Gerudo Desert and loyal to the Hylian Kingdom. "Lon-Lon is holding them at bay, and the king has dispatched Third Company to drive off the siege. When that's done, they'll begin construction of new forts on the border."

Link nodded. That made sense. Third Company, also called Carpenters, was one of the three special companies in the Hylian army—their specialty was constructing and building instruments of war such as forts, siege engines, catapults, and the like. While there were three or four forts already on the border of the Gerudo Nation, several more would need to be built to fill in the gaps in their defense.

"As for the rest of us, we march in two days. We're with the army for now. General Alaster will give us orders once we reach the border." The captain nodded and dismissed them.

The back of Link's neck prickled as the squads broke up once more and Lin, stony-faced, ordered them back to practice. He supposed he should be more surprised at the news, but he wasn't. He felt almost as though he'd been waiting for this moment ever since Fallen's prophecy.

He said a quick prayer for the safety of the inhabitants of the besieged Lon-Lon Town. Fifty-odd Gerudo warriors were no cakewalk, but he knew they would be all right once Carpenters arrived. A single company of the Hylian army had twice the number of two Gerudo tribes.

Would it be a quick war? Would they be able to give the Gerudo a good pounding and kick them back behind their own border? The Hylian army had three regular companies and three specialties—Carpenters, Groundpounders and Feather Company—plus fifty Silver Knights and twenty White Knights, which made for roughly seven hundred warriors. The Gerudo's numbers were smaller by a hundred or so, but they were swift, vicious warriors, trained from birth.

Veteran warriors who had survived wars from decades past insisted that riding sweeps for bandits and fighting in battle were two very different things. Link had always wondered whether they were telling the truth or just making up stories to scare "green" soldiers and knights. Soon he would know for himself.

Practice went on as usual that day, but the day before they were to march to the border, Benek announced that General Alaster had declared a free day for knights and soldiers; they were to use the time to pack and prepare and say farewell to loved ones. Link and Ganondorf ate breakfast together in the morning, then had a few hours of practice in the courtyard. Once they were worn out they parted; Ganondorf went back to the barrack to go over his gear while Link visited a palace scribe to have a will drawn up—he wanted nothing left to chance. Once that was done, he gave his own weapons, supplies, and tack a thorough going-over.

In the afternoon Zelda came by the barracks, and they went to a restaurant in the city for lunch. They spoke of anything other than the war, though it was clearly on all of their minds. After lunch they went to see a players' troupe perform the tale of the goddesses' birth, then wandered through the market to look at the many goods from all over Hyrule. At last they went to the Temple of Time to reflect and pray.

They were not alone; many others knights and soldiers and their families had the same idea. The three stayed near the back of the temple, quiet with their thoughts and prayers. Link wasn't sure if it would do any good, but he prayed for Farore's mercy for those warriors that would be hurt and killed, and hoped there wouldn't be too many to pray for before the war's end.

They headed back up the road to the palace as the sun began to set. Zelda joined them in the army mess for dinner; they had just sat down with their trays of food when the door opened and General Alaster walked in, followed by the king and, to everyone's surprise, the queen.

There was a sudden scraping of chairs as everyone got to their feet and bowed to the king and queen. Queen Leona, in her first public appearance since her illness, looked frail and worn; she clutched her husband's arm for balance, but when her eyes found her daughter, Link, and Ganondorf amidst the packed mess hall, she smiled with familiar grace.

"The king has a few words he would like to say to us all," the general barked, glaring around at the mess. The king nodded to him as he stepped aside with a bow to him and the queen.

Harkinian's very blue eyes swept slowly around the mess, inspecting the soldiers and knights. "By now," the king said quietly, "you all know what has happened, and why we are going to war. It is our chief regret that the peace talks failed. Were we able to change this somehow, we would do so. But what's done is done, and now we must look to those gathered here in this hall to fight for the sake of our kingdom.

"For decades the women of the Gerudo Desert have nibbled at our borders, attacked our squads, merchants, and traveling parties, and ignored the treaty signed and sealed by our ancestors, both Hylian and Gerudo. Rather than working toward a new treaty that could solve our differences, the Venom Snake Tribe chose to insult our hospitality and flaunt our attempts at peace by sneaking out of the kingdom in the dead of night, like a pack of common thieves. In the same night, the town of Lon-Lon, loyal to us for decades, was attacked by a force of two full warrior tribes. Their actions speak clearly of their desire for war—and we shall answer their call.

"We will advance to the border of the Mahala River and drive the Gerudo back into the desert. Then a new treaty will be created by _us,_ one that forces the desert's recognition of the Hylian Kingdom's authority in Hyrule Field. Where cooperation between our nations may once have been possible, it is possible no longer, thanks to the actions of the Gerudo. We will not allow a band of desert savages to take what is rightfully ours through their conniving methods. They will be shown the error of their ways."

The king paused to look at them all again, then nodded and bowed his head in prayer. The queen, general, knights and soldiers did the same. "Golden Goddesses of the heavens above, hear our prayer. Nayru, we pray, may we never forget the principles of honor and chivalry, no matter what manner of enemy we face. Farore, we ask mercy upon our soldiers; give us the courage to fight for our true and just cause, and protect us from the blades of our enemies. Din, war-goddess great and powerful, grant us victory."

"As we pray, so let it be," murmured his audience.

The king nodded to them all again, then turned to guide his lady out of the hall. Queen Leona beckoned to Zelda as she left with the king, gripping his arm.

Zelda sighed and rose to her feet, then sank down again and gripped both of her friends' hands, her eyes bright. "Promise me you'll be careful," she said quietly, looking between them. "Promise me you'll both come back."

Ganondorf covered her hand with his. "We promise. As much as anyone can promise."

The princess nodded and rose once more; the men stood to see her off. "Don't take those pendants off," she ordered, meaning the Triforce pendants. "They'll protect you." She hugged them both, then squared her shoulders and turned to stride out of the mess hall, nodding to those knights and soldiers who bowed as she passed.

Link and Ganondorf watched her go, then looked at each other. "I hope we can keep our promise," Link murmured.

"I don't know about you, but _I _certainly don't plan on dying," Ganondorf said frankly. "Especially not at the hands of my wonderful sisters."

Link smiled half-heartedly. "Let's get some sleep. Morning will be here too soon."

They joined the soldiers streaming from the mess hall back to the barracks, passing the familiar figure of a tall woman standing cloaked in the shadows.

Link jerked and looked around.

"What's wrong?" Ganondorf demanded, halting beside him.

No one was there. "Nothing," Link replied automatically. "Just a ghost."

He shook his head to dispel the chill prickling the back of his neck, and followed his friend back to the barracks.

* * *

To be continued.


	7. March

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

So I finished Chapter 8 sooner than expected and began work on Chapter 9, so I figure it's safe to post a new chapter. Finals week has been very difficult, and I still have two essays to write, but thank you muchly to those who wished me well. Please enjoy the new chapter.

* * *

Chapter 7  
March

They lined the streets of Castletown to cheer as the soldiers marched, hundreds of townspeople all wearing some bit of green ribbon—Farore's color, symbolizing courage. Men kept stoic faces and women wept as their sons, brothers, husbands went off to war; children waved and cheered, watching their heroes pass.

They made a picture out of legend, Link thought as he rode with the Silver Knights, mounted on the back of a spotted gray gelding named Feather. The knights were trained to fight on horseback as well as on foot, though theirs were mainly riding mounts, not warhorses. In front of them, leading the long train of soldiers, were the White Knights, a vision out of legend with shining armor and weapons, mounted on their beautiful, well-trained warhorses. Next came the Silver Knights, then Feather Company, archers marching on foot in their uniforms, forest-green tunics and doe-brown shirts and leggings. Following them were First, Second, and Fourth Company; Groundpounders, a specialty company of mounted cavalry, brought up the rear of the train.

As they passed through the curtain wall surrounding Castletown and across the drawbridge that traversed the broad, swift moat, Link turned back for a last look at his home. The palace was distant and serene in the early morning light, its white towers shining and banners flapping in the brisk wind. Hoping this would not be the last time he saw it, Link turned back to face the broad, open plains of Hyrule Field.

Their march that morning was easy, under a sky so cloudless and blue that even five companies of warriors off to war couldn't feel too tense. Link concentrated on keeping Feather, who was restless, in his place in line and listened to his fellow knights chatter about their homes and their families. They ate lunch in the saddle, and as the day wore on, the talk turned to the Gerudo.

"I still can't believe it," announced Wilhelm, a gangly red-head in Lin's squad. "I thought that treaty was in the bag, and here I am, marching off to war."

"Maybe we just all _thought_ it was in the bag," Thor said dryly. "How long were the Gerudo here? Two, three months? It shouldn't have taken that long to reach an agreement. Maybe they never wanted peace in the first place, and were just here to see how many soldiers we have."

Lancen, who was a head shorter than everyone else and hostile about it, spat on the ground. "You know what I think? I bet that fever was the Gerudo's doing. None of them got sick, did they?"

So he and his friends weren't the only one who noticed, Link thought. Lin, who'd been listening, shook her head.

"Now you're grasping at straws, boys. It was just coincidence that none of them got sick. Or maybe they were immune."

Link spoke up. "My friend Ganondorf, who's a Gerudo, said that the witchsisters would be powerful enough to do something like that, if they combined their power."

The knights looked at him. "That's right," Thor remarked slowly. "Your friend is the Gerudo male, right? The only one of their kind."

Link nodded.

Lancen shook his head. "It's not right, having a Gerudo in the army."

Link met his eyes. "He's as loyal to the king as you or me."

"So what? I still know a sand snake when I smell one."

"Where are your manners, Lancen?" Lin snapped. "Is that how a knight talks? Get to the back of the line, and rethink your vows of chivalry."

Sullenly, Lancen whistled to his horse and fell back, away from Lin's squad. Feather fidgeted nervously; Link realized he was gripping the reigns in an angry fist, and loosened his grip. "Sorry," he murmured to the gelding.

"Link?"

He glanced up at Lin. "I've heard it before, and so has my friend. That doesn't make it right."

Lin nodded. "Your friend's with Second Company, right? If we're stationed with them, I'll make sure Lancen apologizes."

"I should settle the insult myself," Link pointed out, but Lin shook her head.

"Don't waste your time on that yattermouth. Save your strength for our enemies."

"Lin's right," Thor put in. "We're going to have a lot of fighting ahead of us, so you may as well store up your anger."

"A knight doesn't fight with anger in his heart," Lin admonished, rounding on her corporal. "He fights for duty and honor, and for the sake of his kingdom. He fights without hatred."

"He fights with whatever gets the job done," Thor retorted. "What good is honor if you're dead?"

"It's good for standing before the goddesses with a clean conscience!"

Wilhelm rolled his eyes at Link, who smiled in spite of himself. Once Lin and Thor got started on chivalry, they never stopped.

That night the companies stopped and pitched camp in the middle of Hyrule Field. Once the knights' camp was set up, Lin gave her squad permission to roam, so Link wandered over to Second Company's camp to visit Ganondorf.

The Gerudo scowled when he saw Link. He was seated in front of a small campfire, a bedroll laid out beside it. "Must have been nice to ride all day. My feet are killing me."

"Are you kidding?" Link demanded. "You sit in the saddle for ten hours straight and then tell me how your bum feels. I'd rather have walked." He dropped down on the grass across the fire with a groan. "Goddesses, this march will kill us before the war does."

"Did you hear the news?" Ganondorf asked, tossing him a warmed turnover stuffed with sausage and cheese. "The siege on Lon-Lon is over. Third Company slammed the Gerudo like a hammer and kicked 'em back behind their border."

"Good," Link mumbled around a mouthful of turnover. "That ought to show them we're not to be taken lightly."

Ganondorf nodded. "Half of the Carpenters were sent to the border to begin construction on the new fort. The rest are waiting in Lon-Lon for us."

"The Gerudo know we're in it now for certain," Link said. "The next force they send will be a lot bigger than two tribes."

"Good," Ganondorf said cheerfully. "I look forward to pounding them."

Link looked at him. "Yours is a happy nature."

"Why not?" Ganondorf agreed amiably. "Being a Gerudo has caused me far more trouble than it's worth. Now at least I can prepare a warm thank you to my sisters for their kindness and encouragement when I decided to try my fortune in the north."

Link smiled crookedly. There was a small part of him that envied Ganondorf's position, if only because he knew who his people were. He even had a mother alive somewhere among the tribes. There was always the possibility for reconciliation with his people, though that seemed unlikely now that he was going to war with them.

If Link had family alive somewhere, he didn't know it. Nor did he know where he'd been born or who his mother and father were. He did know that he had been given to the midwife of a village near Castletown by a Sheikah woman, but it was clear to anyone who looked at him that he wasn't Sheikah. When the midwife had died, he'd been passed around from home to home until he turned twelve, when he decided to go to Castletown and train as a warrior. He had no love for the village of his childhood, whose inhabitants had treated him as an unwanted burden, but he did wish he knew his family and his people.

_In a way we're all outcasts,_ Link thought, thinking not just of himself and Ganondorf, but Zelda, too. _I have no family, Ganondorf's considered a traitor by his people, and Zelda is so good at being a princess, people forget she's human too._ Perhaps that was the reason they had become friends under unlikely odds.

Link returned to the Silver Knights' camp later that evening to sleep. In the morning, under a dreary gray sky, the companies silently packed up and got back on the road. Around noon, the heavens opened and rain poured down, adding to the dismal mood of the soldiers. They had remembered sometime during the night that it was a war they were on their way to, and there was no way of knowing how many of them would return north by its end.

Link tried not to think about killing and death. When he caught himself dwelling on the war, he hummed songs to keep him occupied. Lin caught him humming the Ballad of Fallen Heroes and took up the chorus; Thor added his voice, then Wilhelm, and soon all of Lin's squad were singing above the patter of the rain.

Long after the sun had set, the rain-soaked companies staggered wearily into Lon-Lon Town. The town, fortified by two log walls and a pair of gates, showed signs of their recent battle with two Gerudo tribes. Arrows studded the walls; blackened scorches marked the logs here and there, and the gates had taken a beating. Freshly dug earth and newly erected graves outside the walls marked the dead.

The officers and the White Knights were offered beds in the town's inns, while the Silver Knights and some soldiers—mostly Carpenters, who had been here before the rest came—were given shelter in large barns and storehouses. The rest set up camp again outside the town walls.

Captain Benek, Lin, andSergeant Masbolleelected to sleep in the storehouse the Silver Knights were given. After they'd set up their bedrolls and passed around food, Benek gathered them to talk as they ate.

"Alaster's given us our orders, boys," the captain said in his usual quiet tone. "There's a hole in our defenses between Forts Sandpit and Kingshold, near the West Road. We'll be building a permanent camp to plug the gap. Not exactly a regular army fort, since there's only fifty of us, and we have to be ready to move at any time. Our assistance may be called on for attacks on the other forts and camps."

Masbolle unfurled a map of the desert and the western portion of Hyrule Field. "Here's where we'll be," the captain said, marking a spot a mile or two east of the broad, swift Mahala River that was the border between Hyrule Field and the Gerudo Nation. "Our position puts us right on top of the Mahala Gorge, so we'll be well-defended from attacks even without fortification like the forts will have. Of course, we'll also be near Sourrem Bridge, so we'll have to keep our eyes open," he added, naming the bridge that crossed Mahala Gorge into the Gerudo desert.

"Now, onto our enemies. We all knew who they are and why we're fighting. We knights have a strict code of honor that applies on or off the battlefield, but I'll tell you something right now—the Gerudo have no concept of chivalry. They fight for one purpose only—to kill their enemies. They will fight to the death for this cause. They will attack a knight who lays his sword at their feet for this cause. Keep chivalry in your hearts, but fight to survive. The kingdom needs every sword. Our numbers are only stronger than the Gerudo by a hundred or so. The tide can easily be turned."

"And don't underestimate them because they're women," Lin put in bluntly. "They're born warriors, trained from the cradle. They'll cut your throat in a flash while you're dancing about because they're female."

"You'll see girls as young as fifteen on the battlefield," Masbolle added. "Make no mistake, they're there to kill you too, and they're just as deadly as their elders. Perhaps more so, because good men will hesitate at killing them."

Benek nodded and looked around at them for long moment. Every knight was listening with fierce attention. "May Farore guide you all, and give you courage on the battlefield," he said quietly.

"If you suddenly find yourself alone in a great green field, or in a place that looks like home, congratulations," Lin joked. "Your troubles are over."

The knights laughed; Benek and Masbolle chuckled. "Put your faith in the goddesses, and they'll take care of you in this life and the next," Benek said when the laughter had died. "Do honor by your realm, your king, and yourselves. Dismissed."

Most of the knights, weary from their day of traveling in the rain, went straight to bed. Link expected to be kept awake by thoughts of the battles to come, but the moment he fell into his bedroll, he was asleep.

The next morning the companies packed up and left Lon-Lon under a light drizzle. As they continued west, the skies eventually cleared and the sun came out by noon to beat down unmercifully, the rich plains of Hyrule Field giving way to the dry, dusty savannah of border country.

At last the long train split up, the companies each to their assigned forts, the knights to locate their positions and begin building their camps. Link said his farewells to Ganondorf, who was stationed with Second Company in Fort Watersedge, at the southern edge of the desert border, and tried not to consider the possibility that this might be the last time they ever spoke.

The knights continued to ride on the West Road. At last, some miles away from the Gerudo border, they turned off the road and rode south for about an hour, until Benek gave the signal to halt. "This is it, boys," he announced, pitching his voice to be heard by the full column of knights.

Link surveyed their new home. They had a stretch of open land on a small rise that would afford some protection, if little. A pile of logs and rolls of canvas were their supplies with which to begin building their camp; the wagonload of supplies they'd brought with them for the north would provide the rest. If Link squinted hard to the west, he could see the sudden drop of ground that marked Mahala Gorge; if he listened, he could hear the faint roaring of the swift Mahala River.

_At least the gorge will make it difficult for the enemy to come straight at us,_ he thought as he dismounted. It was their only real protection, but they would make do.

Benek and his sergeants put the knights to work—half were delegated to set up the camp itself, putting up tents, digging latrines, directing the placement of the infirmary. The other half took the largest of the logs and began to build a wall around the site, placing them at an outward angle to make them difficult to climb and sharpening the ends, a deadly promise to any rider who attempted to jump the wall. The captain and sergeants helped with every job, getting as dirty and sweaty as the rest.

"I love being a knight, don't you?" Lin panted as she helped Link dig a latrine. "Our glory as we ride our noble steeds into battle is truly something to behold, outmatched only by our perseverance at digging holes in the dirt for our people's private use."

Link grinned tiredly. "You wonder why they never mention this stuff in the war ballads."

"We might get more recruits if they did. I know _I_ signed up for the experience of having mud in my teeth," Lin said, straight-faced.

"_I _signed up because I listened to what my mother told me, for once," Benek put in, coming over to inspect their work. "If only I could show her the brilliance and glory in commanding the Silver Knights now."

"We're just full of brilliance and glory," Lin retorted. "I'm almost positive my teeth are brilliant under the mud."

They stopped for the night with the camp half-finished and about a quarter of the wall built. Benek had drawn up a schedule of sentries, to ensure that no surprises would come at them in the dead of night. Link wouldn't have sentry duty for a few days.

"I'll feel better once the wall is finished," Thor confessed when the squad gathered a late-night fire. "We're like sitting ducks out here. I might as well paint a big red target on my head."

Lancen shrugged dismissively. "The Gerudo haven't peeped since we kicked them out of Lon-Lon. It's too soon for them to come at us. They probably don't even know we're on the border yet."

"I don't know," Rillion, another squadmate, remarked doubtfully. "They're good at sneaking about, those Gerudo. They've probably already scouted us out. Like the Sheikah they are, in that way." Rillion had lived nearby Kakariko Village before coming to the castle.

Thor poked at the fire, his face expressionless. "What do you suppose they're cooking, out there in the west?"

Link smiled crookedly. He'd been wondering the same thing.

* * *

To be continued.


	8. Border

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

So I managed to get through finals week all in one piece, and now I'm home, dutifully chugging along through _Fallen Prophecy._ Actually I'm at a good point right now, lots of fun stuff coming up that I'm looking forward to writing. Thanks as always for the reviews, they are much appreciated. On with the show.

* * *

Chapter 8  
Border

Once Zelda had fully recovered from the fever, she began to visit her mother every day in the royal chambers she shared with the king. The healers had prescribed bed rest for Leona, who had yet to fully recover from her bout of illness. Though Leona appeared well enough when she greeted her daughter in her chambers, it worried Zelda to see her lose strength quickly when she made public appearances. She would have insisted that her mother stay in bed had she not known how important it was to make sure the public saw their queen was recovering. With the war weighing heavily on everyone's minds, the Hylian Kingdom needed to know their sovereigns remained unthreatened.

Harkinian met weekly with his councilors to discuss the war's progress. General Alaster was at the border with the rest of his army, but his thorough reports were conveyed by couriers and through magical means. Zelda knew better than to ask her father for permission to attend the meetings, but that hardly mattered. With Sheik she knew every word her father and his councilors spoke.

She began to sneak out of the palace once or twice a week, with Sheik's help, to walk cloaked and disguised through the streets of Castletown, listening to what the people of the city had to say. The war was on everyone's mind and tongue; many had relatives serving as soldiers and were desperately waiting to hear word from battlefront. Others feared the king was using the war as an excuse to press their sons into service.

She went into the Lower City several times, sitting in the worst bars and taverns she could find to listen to their patrons swap gossip and rumors. If her father had known where she went, undoubtedly he would have chained her inside the palace, but Zelda never feared for her safety. Few paid any mind to her; no one realized that the cloaked figure often seated at the bar was the daughter of the Royal King. Anyone who Zelda did notice eyeing her in a way that was not to her comfort soon disappeared unnoticed, and did not return. She decided this was one of Sheik's many talents that she preferred to remain ignorant of, and asked no questions.

She had plenty else to worry about. Zelda prayed every day for Link and Ganondorf's safe return, her mother's full recovery, her father's strength and fortitude throughout the war. She prayed the army, too, that its losses might not be too great. Only when she gathered her courage did she pray to Din for victory. The war-goddess had always made her uneasy; she thought it best not to pray too often to a goddess whose base nature was violence.

There was little news from the battlefront. The Gerudo were biding their time, undoubtedly gathering the measure of the Hylian army before they attacked. Several of Harkinian's councilors, including General Alaster, wanted to allow the army to advance into the Gerudo desert, but the king demurred, saying that he would not invade their nation.

Zelda thought this a mistake. The Gerudo had spat on their hospitality and offers of peace and ignored the code of honor and chivalry in everything they did. Shrinking the border as much as possible would be a nice lesson for them. If she were queen, she might even have ordered the entire desert conquered in the name of the Hylian Kingdom, had they the numbers. It was as Ganondorf had said—they weren't worth sparing. None in Hyrule would stand with them, not when everyone could see they were responsible for the peace talks' failure.

There was one good result of those tense weeks—no one, not even her father, concerned themselves with Zelda's marriage prospects anymore.

* * *

Even in the middle of autumn, the sun was still strong enough to cook him where he sat, Link thought ruefully as he pulled off his cap to wipe his sweating brow. Replacing the cap, he settled back against the gnarled, sturdy tree that served as his lookout post and surveyed the dusty savannah. It was his fourth watch this week and he'd barely spotted a rustle in the grasses, let alone any sign of attacking Gerudo. The forts spaced along the border reported only brief scuffles with small raiding parties by squads on patrol.

Throughout the month of October, Link was learning what the veteran knights already knew—war was boring. The Silver Knights built double walls and dug trenches to protect their camp, and kept their skills sharp in daily training and mock combat. They rode patrol, and every two weeks a squad was dispatched to Fort Kingshold to report to General Alaster and receive news and messages from the forts and from the palace back home. They also played games and held tournaments in archery, wrestling, riding, and the like. Link missed his closest friends, though he enjoyed the company of his squadmates.

He wondered what was happening with Ganondorf and Zelda right now. Ganondorf was far to the south—had he seen action? Was he all right? Link worried about the effects of fighting one's own people as much as he worried about his friend's safety. For all his bravado, it probably bothered him, though it was hard to tell for sure. Ganondorf didn't share his thoughts much, and he was difficult to read—it probably came from years of being treated as though his opinion was worthless because of his heritage.

And what of Zelda, Link wondered, alone in the north? What of her mother the queen? Had she recovered fully from the fever, or was her health frail still? Was the king still searching for a suitable husband for Zelda? Link wondered sometimes if he might not return north after the war and find her married off to some would-be king. Somehow, he couldn't imagine Zelda married, ruling dutifully alongside her husband as Queen Leona did alongside hers. The idea gnawed at him like an itch he couldn't scratch, though he had no idea why it should.

There—movement to the northwest. Link uncapped his spyglass and put the lens to his eye. On the distant horizon, a scarlet-and-gold blur was on the move, sunlight winking and shimmering on the silver of weapons. A raiding party? Link wondered. Or an army? And where were they heading? With the sun glaring harshly in his spyglass, it was difficult to tell their direction.

He folded the spyglass and tumbled from the tree to race back to the knights' camp. Up the incline past the trenches and sharpened logs, through the double gates—each wall had a set of gates, kept open during the day but always manned by knights ready to close them at the first hint of trouble. Captain Benek would be overseeing squad training at this hour. Link found him in the drill yard as expected, where knights practiced under their sergeants' watchful eyes.

Link saluted as the captain turned to him, slightly winded. "Movement in the northwest, sir," he panted. "A raiding party, or maybe something bigger. I couldn't count their numbers, nor tell their direction. The sun was in my eyes."

"Sandpit is northwest," the captain murmured, more to himself than to Link. He looked up sharply. "Lin, Masbolle, Dunevon, arm up! Send scouts ahead—if the enemy's numbers are too large for you to handle, do _not_ attempt to engage them! Ride to Fort Sandpit and take your orders from the commanding officer, understood?" The three sergeants he'd named saluted as one and turned to their squads, echoing Benek's orders.

Action at last, Link thought in mixed apprehension and exhilaration as he raced to the stables with his squadmates to saddle their mounts. Feather fidgeted and tossed his head as Link readied him and led him out, catching the fervor that spread through the camp like wildfire. He checked and double checked the straps and made sure his bow and longsword were with him before mounting. Lin, seated in the saddle and ready to go, trotted up and down their line, inspecting her squad.

"You heard our orders!" she cried at last, when all of her squadmates were assembled. "Ride, boys, ride!"

The wooden gates moaned as they were opened wider, wide enough to allow two columns of riders to pass through. Masbolle's squad streamed through the gates and down the incline, followed by Lin's squad, then Dunevon's. They turned sharply northwest and rode hard for the scarlet and gold in the distance.

The Gerudo were not as far off as they'd looked. The wink and flash of sunlight off of metal and the clangs and cries of battle told them the enemy was already engaged—probably they had attacked or been attacked by a squad on patrol from Fort Sandpit. A full tribe was present in their scarlet uniforms, furiously sparring with a dozen or so armored soldiers.

The three knights' squads slammed the Gerudo like a hammer, splitting them away from the Hylian soldiers. Most of the Gerudo fought on foot with their dual scimitars, though a few were mounted on nimble desert horses, wielding scimitars in each hand with deadly precision as they guided their mounts with their knees. Link parried the downsweep of one mounted Gerudo's scimitar as Feather reared, forcing the enemy at his feet to move out of the way of his flailing hooves. The Gerudo struck at Feather's flank with her other blade; Link yanked his mount's reigns, wheeling him just in time. With a cry of frustration, the Gerudo threw herself from the saddle at Link, knocking him into the dirt.

Link barely had time to catch his breath before the Gerudo was on him; he blindly blocked her scimitars and kicked out at her midsection. The Gerudo rolled away, coughing and hacking as Link scrambled to his feet.

His enemy spat in the dirt and leapt for him again; Link ducked one scimitar, deflected the other to the side and reversed his grip to run the woman through. As she fell with a last strangled gasp, Link spun to block another pair of scimitars wielded by a grim-faced girl who looked barely his age, if not younger. He hacked into her defenses with all his strength, throwing her off balance; Lancen, still in the saddle, sliced her lengthwise and Link in turn cut down an enemy woman about to drag him from the saddle.

The battle was over in minutes; the remaining Gerudo, overwhelmed by the relief squads, turned and ran, and Sergeant Dunevon's archers took out the last of them with arrows. Their side had lost numbers as well, especially among the squad from Sandpit that had first engaged the enemy; Hylian bodies lay still in the dusty battleground. The sergeants dismounted to inspect their casualties, administering the mercy stroke to those too badly wounded to be healed. Some wounded Hylians were lifted onto horses to be brought back to Fort Sandpit for healing and rest.

"Dunevon's squad, build a funeral pyre," ordered Sergeant Masbolle, who commanded in the field when Benek wasn't present. "Lin's squad, escort the survivors back to Fort Sandpit. Return to the camp when you're done, both of you. My squad will ride a sweep around the area, make sure there are no more of these bitches waiting to ambush us."

"Mount up, boys," Lin ordered. "If you've lost your horse, ride with someone else."

Feather, sweat-streaked and trembling, had gotten away with just a shallow scratch on his shoulder; Link patted his neck reassuringly before mounting. Lin helped the gray-faced, swaying sergeant from Ford Sandpit, wrapped in a bandage for a long gash down the length of his arm, into the saddle of her own sturdy chestnut mare, then mounted in front of him and whistled to her squad. As one squad and survivors, some leading horses on which the wounded were carried, rode for Fort Sandpit.

Sandpit was better fortified than the knights' camp, with two double walls the height of fifteen men each, slippery boulders placed around the outer wall's base to deter climbers, and a heavily fortified gate. Sentries armed with bows patrolled the wall; a couple hailed Lin's squad as they caught sight of them, and listened as Lin communicated in a series of earsplitting whistles that they brought casualties. By the time the Hylians rode through the gate, healers were waiting; they carefully unloaded the wounded onto stretchers and carried them to the infirmary.

The injured among the knights would remain in the infirmary in Sandpit until it was safe to move them back to the camp. Lin tenderly pressed her hand against her corporal Thor's pale cheek, who had been scored from collarbone to navel, before allowing him to be carried to the infirmary.

"Mount up," she said quietly to her squad when the injured were seen to. "Let's get back to the camp."

* * *

The warm autumn months gave way to slightly cooler winter, bringing sparse, cool rain to the parched land. The recovered knights soon returned from Fort Sandpit, but there were other casualties as the Gerudo attacked squads on patrol or parties of couriers riding between the forts. General Alaster ordered the knights to ride sweeps with squads from nearby forts and escort messengers from settlement to settlement. Link fought in a dozen or so more skirmishes before Midwinter, short hit-and-run battles with tribes of fierce, swift Gerudo. They never attacked the forts, having neither the numbers nor the means to break through Hylian defenses, but caught squads and soldiers outside of their walls, on land unfamiliar to the Hylians.

Two squads traveling from forts Kingshold to Sandpit with messages were ambushed by a full three tribes of Gerudo and mercilessly slaughtered. Rillion of Lin's squad and Yenyth of Dunevon's, acting as scouts for patrol, misread trail signs and stumbled into an enemy war party. They were cut to pieces before Hylian knights could rescue them.

"Stupid," Lin growled at the funeral, holding back tears. "I _told_ Benek Rillion was no good for scout work."

There were other such casualties in the weeks before Midwinter, but on the whole Hylian losses were not great. Instead of reassuring Link, the numbers only made him more edgy. He couldn't shake the feeling that the Gerudo were waiting for something, that there was a reason they had gone to war with a well-trained army that outnumbered them by a hundred soldiers. He didn't know what that reason was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

On Midwinter Eve the knights kept vigil as was the custom in the Hylian Kingdom, greeting the rising sun at the end of the longest night of the year. Prayers and blessings followed; Link prayed mostly for his friends, and for the Hylian army's victory.

In early January, the Silver Knights received a dispatch from General Alaster. Their entire force was to pack up and prepare to ride to Fort Watersedge, far in the south. They would stop at Kingshold along the way to receive further orders from the general in person. "Must be something big," Wilhelm remarked to Link when Captain Benek relayed the orders.

"You think the Gerudo are finally making a significant move?" Link asked him.

Wilhelm shrugged. "If they are, I'm glad the waiting's over," he said frankly, and Link couldn't help but agree.

The Silver Knights took a day to prepare and left at dawn the next day, sending scouts ahead to make sure the road ahead was clear of nasty surprises. They reached Kingshold by sundown without any trouble; after a quick meal in the soldiers' mess, the knights were assembled before General Alaster.

The general was a short, compact man in his early forties who paced as he spoke, pale gray eyes flicking restlessly over the knights. "Reports have come from the south—movement across the border, heightened activity of the enemy. A scout from Watersedge crossed the border and reported a gathering of some hundred-odd Gerudo. Signs point toward a big attack, maybe a siege on one of our southern forts. I'm dispatching you knights south to strengthen our companies' numbers for the coming battle. Half your force will be stationed at Watersedge, the other half at Fort Rihani. You will remain at your posts until I send new orders. Be prepared to see heavy combat."

They remained at Kingshold overnight, then continued on the road south. The ride was uneventful—if the enemy was watching, they didn't show themselves. The forts and camps along the border provided them with food and shelter at night.

After four days of riding, the fort of Watersedge, its Hylian banner snapping briskly in the wind, came into view across the long, dusty plains. The Silver Knights picked up their pace to reach the fort before dusk. At dawn the next day, half their forces would head out again, further south to Rihani. The other half would remain at Watersedge until further notice.

Heading up the incline toward Watersedge's thick wooden gates, Link heard someone hail him from the wall and looked up. Ganondorf lounged against the ramparts, saluting him ironically.

Link grinned impetuously and nudged Feather into a trot.

* * *

To be continued.


	9. Watersedge

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

This has been a good week for Fallen Prophecy, as I managed to write quite a bit over the last couple of days. Thanks to everyone for their thoughtful reviews, it's always nice to see readers' thoughts on the chapters. As always, feel free to ask questions and I'll do my best to answer them. In response to Mudora's review—I agree, and war is surprisingly fun to write, too. I guess that's why it keeps turning up in my fics.

* * *

Chapter 9  
Watersedge

Ganondorf strode down to meet him, taking Feather's reins as Link dismounted. "Well met," the Gerudo said, clapping Link on the shoulder. "I knew you couldn't keep away from me for long."

Link grinned at his friend. "How have you been, old man?"

"Well enough," Ganondorf said dryly. "Had a neat couple of skirmishes just this week. Stick around and I'll tell you about it. 'Scuse me." He turned to face Captain Benek, a definite note of coolness entering his voice. "In Captain Pavel's name, welcome to Fort Watersedge. I'm to take you and your sergeants to headquarters. Your men can eat in the soldiers' mess." He pointed out a long, squat building from which smoke drifted, carrying the enticing aroma of roasting meat.

Benek waved the Silver Knights on. "Have fun, boys."

"Don't gorge yourselves," Lin added with mock sternness.

"But Mother, I smell fresh pies on the windowsill," someone joked. Ganondorf waved to Link as he led the officers toward headquarters. Link nodded; they would see each other again soon.

"Your friend seems all right," Thor commented at Link's elbow. The corporal had long since recovered from his wound in that first skirmish, though the scar would never heal completely. "Doesn't he get depressed, fighting his own people?"

"He doesn't consider them his people," Link said, aware that several of his squadmates were listening closely. "When we rode to the border, he told me he was looking forward to pounding them. He—well, they have a weird history."

Thor nodded, but Link could see there were more questions in his eyes. He refrained from asking, however, as the Silver Knights entered the mess.

Link was halfway through a bowl of stew filled with beef and vegetables before Ganondorf turned up. The Gerudo set down his own bowl and slid onto the seat across from him, retrieving a piece of parchment from his pocket.

"This arrived a day ahead of you," he said, pushing the parchment across the table toward Link. "It's from Zelda. Thought you might want to see it."

Link took it enthusiastically—mail from the north was rare, and it was good to hear from Zelda, even if the letter was addressed to Ganondorf—and read it on the spot.

_Dear Ganondorf, and Link if you're there,_

_I hope you'll both get a chance to read this letter. We received word from General Alaster that the Silver Knights were being transferred to Fort Watersedge to prepare for a possible attack. I was happy to hear that—I worry less when I know you two can watch over one another._

_Things are quiet here. Mother is not doing very well. She caught a cold and is very weak—you know she never fully recovered from the fever. Father worries about her and would like to stay by her side, but he must keep up business as usual; with the war on everyone's mind, our people might panic if they thought something was amiss at the palace. I worry for both of my parents. Poor Father never gets a moment's peace, and Mother…well, pray for her health, as I am doing. With any hope, Farore will hear us._

_I know you two are safe, because I do check the rosters; those at least are timely and accurate. It is lonely here without you both. My father has stopped assigning me dinner partners, mostly because he has no time to think about such things, I believe, but wouldn't you know, I almost miss having a suitor to chat with over dinner! The palace seems so very empty without our soldiers and knights. I had hoped to have you all home by Midwinter, but it seems things haven't moved much on the border. General Alaster thinks we should advance into the desert and overrun the Gerudo, but Father is not sure. If it were me I'd have already had it done, and perhaps you would be home now._

_Please take care of yourselves, and each other. You are both in my prayers._

_With love,  
__Zelda_

"I didn't realize Zelda knows so much about what's going on here at the border," Link remarked when he was done, folding the parchment. "Her father really changed his mind on letting her in on things, didn't he?"

"So it seems," Ganondorf said with a slight frown, but then he shrugged. "Good for her to have a handle on things. I hope her mother gets better soon."

Link nodded soberly. "She'll be all right," he said, aware that his friend could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

Ganondorf smiled crookedly. "If she does recover, do you suppose the king will start thinking about marrying Zelda off again?"

Link looked at him, surprised. "Why do you ask?"

The Gerudo shrugged. "Well, it would be strange, wouldn't it? We three have been friends for years, and suddenly there'd be someone else in the picture. Wouldn't it throw off our relationship a little?"

"I suppose," Link said, aware that he'd thought about the same thing every once and a while over the past few months. Changing the subject, he asked his friend, "So how are things around here, anyway? Are you okay?"

Ganondorf looked at him coolly. "You mean am I okay with killing my sisters."

"Not just that," Link said sheepishly.

"Do you want to know what I'm not okay with, Link? I'm not okay with being watched every moment of every day in case I 'come to my senses' and desert to the Gerudo side. I'm not okay with people acting as though I betrayed the Gerudo and that's proof enough that I'm sure to betray the Hylians next. Those who think I'll desert watch me take down enemy Gerudo on the battlefield, and call me a traitor and a kinslayer all in the same breath!"

Link stared at him, appalled. "Do they really say that, Ganondorf?"

"They don't have to. It's clear enough in their eyes when they look at me." The Gerudo shook his head. "That's all this job is, Link. Captain Pavel and some of the sergeants do all right by me, but I'm fighting alongside soldiers who think I'm desert scum and for monarchs who don't give a damn."

"Zelda does," Link protested.

"But Zelda's not the queen. Not yet, anyway."

"Someday, she will be," Link said, and he almost hoped that day would come soon, even though it would mean the death of her father first.

"And where we three will stand then, who knows," Ganondorf said cryptically.

"You worry too much," Link said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. "Of course we'll all still be friends when Zelda's the queen. Who else is going to keep her off her high horse when she rules the entire kingdom? Someone needs to remind her that she's human."

Ganondorf smiled, but it was a cynical, bitter smile. "Maybe you'll be of use to her when she's the queen, Link. Me? I'll probably be a liability."

His words left Link troubled that night when he tried to sleep, but he banished them from his mind. It was just the war that left Ganondorf feeling so pessimistic. Zelda wouldn't forget her old friends so easily when she succeeded the throne.

It was quiet at Fort Watersedge the next few days, the weather humid and rainy. The time passed much as it did at the knights' camp, in practice, patrols, and games with the Hylian soldiers. Link had Feather fitted for a new shoe and his weapons checked and sharpened at the makeshift forge within Watersedge's walls. He and Ganondorf wrote back to Zelda, telling her of theirfights with the enemy Gerudo and life at the forts. Link also sparred with his friend daily with swords, and usually lost. He was quick, with good reflexes, but Ganondorf was twice as strong and had a sharp eye for his foe's movements. Link won one spar out of three, which was something, at least.

"You keep me humble," he sighed once after a duel he'd lost as he and Ganondorf put their weapons away. His friend laughed and slapped him on the back, knocking the wind out of him.

One night, four days after the knights' arrival at Watersedge, Link was jarred from a sound sleep by the crunching of the gates as they slid open. He sat up in his bunk in the barracks provided for the knights and saw that some of his squadmates were awake, as well—some rubbed sleep from their eyes as others stared around in bewilderment. Wilhelm met Link's gaze. "What's this about?"

Link shrugged, but dread gnawed at his insides. The gates were to remain shut after the last patrol came in for the night, until the first patrol was ready to leave the next morning. That someone had come calling at this hour meant something was wrong, very wrong.

He threw off his blanket and stuffed his feet into his boots, intending to go find out what was going on. Some of his squadmates followed suit, and they left the barracks together.

Hylian soldiers were milling outside in the practice yards. The sky was just touched with a pearly gray light; dawn was not far. Ganondorf hailed Link, looking barely awake. "What's the story?" Link asked as he approached.

"Dunno." The Gerudo yawned. "Somebody came galloping in on horseback, I heard. Captain Pavel called all the officers to headquarters."

"Benek and the sergeants went, too," said Thor. He and Wilhelm had followed Link. "Lin told the corporals to keep an eye on things. We're to wait for her in the mess hall."

"Come wait with us," Link offered to Ganondorf. "Lin will tell us what's going on."

In the mess, sleepy cooks set out pitchers of water and juice and steaming pots of strong, stimulating tea and began to cook breakfast. Link, Ganondorf, and Link's two squadmates nursed cups of tea as they waited, too weary to talk. All four were just starting to wake when a few of the officers, including Sergeant Lin, entered the mess.

Lin came straight to their table, looking somber and worn. Thor poured a cup of tea and set it in front of her as she sat. She stared at the tea as though she didn't quite know what to do with it, then picked it up and took a small sip, swallowed, and placed it down again.

"Sandpit fell," she said quietly.

The three knights and Ganondorf stared at her in shock. _"What?"_

Lin took another sip of her tea. "The Gerudo hit at dusk two days ago, eight tribes of them. They burned the walls and slaughtered nearly everyone inside. A few people escaped—message boys and hostlers, mostly. They rode for Kingshold, but it was besieged too."

"Farore's mercy," Wilhelm whispered, his boyish face drained of blood.

"So they split up," Lin continued soberly. "One of them probably went back north, and the others to get the word to the other forts…our courier rode hard day and night to get here. Nearly killed his mount."

Thor rose abruptly, gripping the edges of the table in white-knuckled fists. "They planned this," he said tightly. "They turned our attention to the south and then they hit the north. And if we hadn't left—"

Link knew what he was thinking. If the Silver Knights had stayed near Fort Sandpit, it might have survived the siege.

"The Gerudo aren't stupid," Ganondorf said, his face quite expressionless. "The king acts like it's a few raiding parties we're up against, yet two nights ago eight tribes amassed in a planned attack. We underestimated them."

"Are you saying this is our fault?" Thor demanded angrily.

"Now hold on a minute," Lin said sharply, gripping her corporal's arm. "Nobody's saying this was one side's fault or the other. We had no idea this was going to happen. The last thing we need is to start blaming each other."

"What's going to happen now?" Link asked as evenly as possible, clenching his hands in his lap to stop them from shaking. His gut twisted as he thought of the inhabitants of Sandpit, who had cared for the injured Silver Knights like their own, cut to pieces in the Gerudo's vicious attack. "What about Kingshold?"

"The White Knights are riding hard to reach them now," Lin replied. "We're to stay where we've been assigned until we hear from the general. It'd be a bad time to start thinking the Gerudo won't try to catch another big fish while our attention is divided." She sighed and shook her head. "Go back to bed, boys. This will be a day of mourning—no practice, no patrols, just the regular sentry shifts."

Link knew, though, there was no getting back to sleep now. He and his friends ate as much breakfast as they could on stomachs leaden with guilt, then he and Ganondorf went to collect their swords, agreeing to meet in the practice yard. Just because there would be no official training was no reason he couldn't work until his mind was too exhausted to think, Link had decided. Images of the soldiers he'd seen at Sandpit kept flashing through his head, until he wanted to take a pickaxe to his own skull to be rid of them.

The practice yard was completely deserted, except for a lone soldier practicing archery on the far end of the field. Link pulled his hair into a short ponytail before unsheathing his sword; Ganondorf was ready for him, naked sword in hand. The two crossed swords in traditional Hylian fashion, then slid into fighter's crouches. Link kept his eyes on his friend's chest rather than his face, letting the knowledge of a fight clear his mind and send adrenaline coursing through his weary body.

Ganondorf took a step forward; the muscles at his shoulder flexed, making Link think he'd try an overhead chop. Instead he jabbed forward with his sword, forcing Link to skip away, the tip of Ganondorf's blade barely glancing off his sword. He circled, searching for an opening in his friend's defense. Ganondorf feinted at him several times, trying to force his offense, but Link wasn't biting just yet.

Ganondorf growled and advanced, swinging in earnest to break through Link's defenses. Link blocked each strike and followed up with his own, which his friend blocked easily; it was almost as though they moved through a rehearsed drill, except the swords were real and each swerve and block was not just for show. Ganondorf swung hard as Link ducked, missing the top of his head by inches; Link swept his sword up, and only a quick leap back saved Ganondorf from a gash from navel to collarbone.

Lightning-quick, he brought his blade down like an axe; Link blocked and winced at the battering impact on his sword arm. The swords slid together with a screech of metal on metal and locked at the hilt; Ganondorf strained downwards, using the advantage of his superior height and strength to deadly effect. Link dropped and rolled away just as Ganondorf's blade struck the dirt; he jumped to his feet and circled again, eyes intent.

A shrill whistle split the air and the two fighters paused, looking automatically toward the ramparts. All through the fort, knights and soldiers froze, looking up at the wall where sentries and archers were amassing on the southern walkway. Out of the corner of his eye Link saw Captain Pavel, followed closely by Captain Benek, race up the ramp to the walkway on the ramparts high above.

The fort's captain took one look at the situation before turning back.

"Men of Watersedge, arm yourselves!" he shouted in a battlefield roar that carried easily across the fort. "It's an attack!"

* * *

To be continued.


	10. Battle

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. I'm glad you seem to be enjoying the action and fight scenes. I've been having a lot of fun writing chapters lately and I'm looking forward to posting them and hearing your reactions. Don't forget to check back every week, Thursday or Friday, for the latest update.

* * *

Chapter 10  
Battle

Zelda woke abruptly in her bedroom on a cold winter's night, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. Her breath steamed in the chill room—the fire in her hearth had gone out during the night—and tried to remember her dream. She had seen blood, the glow of orange like the heart of a forge, and—a sword? There was something special about it, but she couldn't quite remember…

This time, when she caught a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, she did not lose her temper, but sat up and peered through the gloom. "What do you want, Sheik?"

"It's your mother," his voice issued out of the shadows. "She is dying. The healers don't expect her to live through the night."

Zelda threw off her covers and struggled out of bed, stiff-legged from the cold, bile rising in her throat like she was about to vomit. "Are you sure?" she whispered, the icy wooden floor freezing her bare feet.

"Yes. I listened as the healers told your father."

Zelda pulled a robe and slippers on, struggling not to cry. She had known this was coming, ever since Leona took deathly ill with pneumonia. They had all known. "Go," she whispered to Sheik. "Come back in the morning."

He disappeared out her balcony doors just as a loud knock sounded on her doors. Zelda hurried across the room to pull one open; Impa stood there, white as a sheet, hand poised to knock again.

"Your Highness—"

"I know," the princess whispered. "Take me to her."

The hall outside her parents' chambers was teeming with healers, maids, and footmen, all speaking in low, hushed voices. They cleared a path as Zelda and Impa approached, bowing or curtsying respectfully. The door opened, and Harkinian emerged, looking terribly weary.

"There you are," he said heavily when he saw Zelda. "Go in, Zelda, your mother wants to speak with you." He held the door open for it and Zelda steeled herself, entering the chamber.

Queen Leona lay dozing on the bed, and for a moment Zelda was sure the healers had been mistaken—she was merely resting, she didn't look so bad off. Then she heard the rattling of the breaths her mother fought to pull in, saw the icy pallor of her cheek.

Leona opened her eyes as Zelda approached her bed and smiled. "There you are, daughter. Sit." She waved a hand toward a chair at her bedside. Her voice was faint but clear, her violet eyes sharp as ever, but Zelda did not miss the trembling of her hand. She sat and took her mother's hand.

"How do you feel, Mother?"

Leona smiled wryly. "Must I answer? Never mind, dear—listen, there is something important I must tell you.

"Your father—you know he is not as young as he once was. He will take this—my death—he will take it hard. When I—after I'm gone, you must be strong, for both your sakes and for the kingdom's. You may even be called upon to rule in your father's place before you come of age."

Zelda felt a flare of panic. "Mother, you mustn't die, I can't rule the kingdom, I'm not even eighteen!"

"What difference does a few months make?" Leona asked practically. "No, my daughter, you were ready for this from the cradle. Your time is coming soon, very soon. You must—be strong."

Zelda leaned close, wondering if this was what the healers called a deathbed prophecy, but her mother began to cough, and Zelda helped her to sit up and take a drink of water. "Thank you," Leona murmured, sinking back on the pillows. "I feel so weary."

"Sleep, Mother," Zelda whispered, tears blurring her vision. Leona closed her eyes, but a moment later opened them and smiled faintly.

"Daughter, do you remember when that woman, the prophet—Fallen, is that what she called herself?—do you remember when she told our fortunes at the banquet that night?"

"Yes, Mother, I remember."

"She said I knew my fate already," Leona whispered. "Well, this—this I know. I have given birth to, and now die beside, the queen who will reign for eternity in these lands."

Zelda's spine prickled. "What do you mean, Mother?"

But Leona was beyond answering. Her eyes traveled slowly around the room, then came to rest on a point somewhere behind Zelda. She blinked and struggled to sit up.

"Who are you?" Leona asked in a clear, strong voice.

Zelda turned quickly, and for an instant she had the oddest fancy someone was standing in the corner behind her—but there was no one there.

She turned back. Leona lay still against the pillows, eyes glassy and blank.

"Mother?" Zelda whispered. "Mother?"

There was no response.

All that day, bells tolled throughout the Hylian Kingdom, in mourning for the death of the queen.

* * *

Benek raced down the ramparts as Captain Pavel continued to shout orders from the walkway. "Archers to the south wall! Be ready to fire on my command! Do _not_ waste arrows! Sentries, keep to your posts!" he snarled, shoving several onlookers who had come to gape at the attacking Gerudo back to their places. "You want the enemy to come at our walls while you're not watching, idiots!"

He turned back toward the fort. "I want six squads armed up and ready to go into the field on my command! _Now,_ soldiers, _now!"_

"Silver Knights, get yourselves armed and mounted!" Benek ordered. "Be ready to ride with Watersedge's soldiers into the field!"

Ganondorf thumped Link on the shoulder. "Good luck," he said breathlessly, eyes gleaming with battle lust, before racing for the fort's armory.

As one, the Silver Knights ran for the stables, only to find their work was already done—hostlers had saddled and led out most of the knights' mounts. Link took Feather's reins, patting the fidgety gelding absently to reassure him as he and his squadmates waited for orders.

"Archers on the south wall, take aim!" Pavel's battlefield roar pitched easily over the length of the fort. "And _fire!"_

The soft twangs of bowstrings releasing filled the air as Hylian arrows whistled toward their targets; stuck behind the fort's closed gate, Link had no way of knowing which arrows hit and where the Gerudo were now. Pavel's squads gathered around the knights; Link looked for Ganondorf, but didn't spot him among all the uniformed soldiers. The Hylian soldiers waited on foot, their faces tense, weapons gripped in white-knuckled hands. Only the officers had horses.

Pavel shouted an order, and the gate creaked and groaned as it slowly began to open; the Silver Knights swiftly mounted. "Take your orders from Captain Benek in the field!" Pavel ordered knights and soldiers alike. "Don't let those Gerudo bitches _near_ our fort!"

As one, knights and soldiers raised their weapons in a roar of agreement. Link licked dry lips and swung onto Feather's back, nudging the gelding toward the open gate.

Watersedge's gate was set on the west wall, facing the close Mahala Gorge. It was a good placement, sandwiching any attacks on the gate between the fort's walls and the nearby cliff edge, but it made for tight maneuvering as knights and soldiers streamed from the gate and turned south. The dusty field before the south wall was strewn with arrow-riddled Gerudo bodies; the enemy had retreated out of the archers' range.

The enemy spotted Watersedge's defenders. A mounted Gerudo raised her scimitar into the air with a shrieking war cry, to be joined by a hundred female voices; as one, the red and gold force surged across the field as the Hylians moved to face them. The moment the Gerudo were in range again Pavel's archers sent a deadly hail of arrows into the field, over the heads of the charging Hylians.

Link saw the flashing of deadly silver and the glittering eyes of grim-faced women before the two parties slammed together, red-clad Gerudo warriors and blue-uniformed soldiers entwining like currents in an angry sea. Feather reared, warding off an enemy pair with sharp hooves as the two tried to surround him; Link waited until he landed on all fours before he struck, chopping down hard on one Gerudo's locked scimitars and knocking her to the ground before turning in the saddle to stop the other from slicing Feather's flank. A Hylian cut her down before she could free her blades, and Link wheeled Feather to face a tattooed Gerudo mounted on a gray pony.

The tattooed Gerudo barely blinked as her pony kicked out to send a Hylian soldier flying; she spurred her mount forward to meet Link with her knees, wielding her dual scimitars in both hands. Link waited until she was almost on him before swinging Feather to the side; the Gerudo snarled as her pony's shoulder brushed against Feather's and barely managed to deflect Link's sword as he tried to run her through. One scimitar locked with his sword and Link shoved all his weight to the side before she could bring the other down, throwing her off balance and nearly toppling her from the saddle. Her pony turned to save her from that fate and cantered a few paces away before the Gerudo turned it to face Link again.

Hands clutched his leg, trying to drag him from the saddle; Feather reared and Link cut down his attacker. The tattooed Gerudo shrieked her peoples' eerie war cry and galloped toward him again, raising a scimitar to meet his sword. When the two weapons crashed together pain flared like lightning up his arm; Link yelled and dropped his sword as Feather shied away, but the pain continued, like knives driving into his flesh. Clutching his shoulder, Link faced the grinning Gerudo. So she was a witchsister; he'd forgotten that her tattoos marked her as one.

She kicked her pony into a gallop and Link, sweating from the pain lancing through his arm and shoulder, knew he was not going to stop her attack again. An arrow sprouted suddenly in the witch's chest; her pony slowed as she swayed, jaw dropping in shock. The Gerudo toppled from the saddle to smack into the dirt.

With her death the pain in Link's arm disappeared; he grabbed Feather's reins to turn him away as a Gerudo attacked on foot, but the woman snarled in frustration and threw her scimitar. The curved weapon sliced through the air to bite deep into Feather's thick neck; blood spurted down the gelding's front and he collapsed immediately.

Link lurched from the saddle, scooped up one of the dead witchsister's scimitars and turned on his knees to hack blindly at the charging Gerudo. The scimitar sliced deep into her thigh and the woman went down; Link freed the blade and cut her throat.

He stumbled to Feather's side to check him, even with the sickening knowledge that he was too late. The big gelding was covered in dark blood; within moments he was dead. Briefly Link laid a hand on his neck—he had _liked _the skittish horse—before turning away to search for his longsword, fending off new attackers with the witchsister's scimitar.

The sparse grass underfoot was churned and bloody and strewn with bodies by now, Hylian and Gerudo. Link was not sure how his side fared, but he knew that they were still far from the fort's walls and that arrows continued to rain onto the field in sparse numbers, careful of striking friend rather than foe. Knights and soldiers had driven the enemy back toward the edge of the gorge, sandwiching Gerudo and Hylian alike on the cliff's edge and forcing them to fight in a close-knit group.

Link spotted his sword in the dirt and dove for it, but a the pointed toe of a Gerudo slipper stepped on the blade before he could touch it. He looked up into the angry face of a Gerudo warrior and his heart thudded in his ears; she was a girl barely in adolescence, at least three years younger than him.

The girl gave a high pitched cry as she leapt for him and Link barely blocked with the scimitar; she drove him back with a flurry of hacks and chops which he managed to dodge or block with only inches to spare, clumsy with the unfamiliar weapon. As he swerved and backed away automatically to avoid her attacks, his mind screamed at him to fight back, to do _something_ to keep himself from getting killed—but the girl's face had him paralyzed. Up until now he'd only fought women who were his age and older, but even though his officers had warned against exactly this kind of trap, he could not bring himself to raise his weapon. He couldn't cut down a young girl in cold blood.

_It isn't cold blood,_ the cool, sensible part of his mind observed. _It's survival._

The young Gerudo's right scimitar bit into his bicep as Link swerved away, opening a stinging gash that sent blood streaming down his arm. Wincing, Link stepped back as the girl leapt for him again, raising his stolen scimitar to deflect her next strike. The girl stumbled and Link reacted mindlessly, chopping into her defenses and sending her tumbling into the dirt. She swung at him from her knees just as he had done; Link leapt back just in time and kept backing away as the girl jumped to her feet and pursued him doggedly, pushing him toward the gorge.

Part of him knew that they were fighting on the outskirts of the sea of mingled Hylians and Gerudo, dangerously close to the cliff edge. Link deflected each strike the girl swung, knowing that he was being an idiot, that any moment some other Gerudo was going to catch him in the back while he danced with this one and the fight would be over. He heard screams and shouts of warning, and out of the corner of his eye saw fire flare up in the middle of the battlefield—the witchsisters at work.

Gasping, he turned toward the inferno and the Gerudo uttered a cry of triumph. Link saw the curved blade thrusting toward his chest on the edges of his vision as though in slow motion and his body reacted, leaping back to save his life within a hairline; the scimitar sliced a neat line through his tunic. The girl's momentum carried her forward and she knocked into him.

Link felt ground give way beneath his heel and immediately knew his mistake. Dirt slid from the cliff edge and the Gerudo girl gave a high-pitched scream as she and Link tumbled into the gorge.

* * *

To be continued.


	11. Fallen

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

Thanks again to all who read and reviewed, your feedback is very much appreciated. Crono Master, I'm afraid I don't understand your comments about my war being "generic…just battle after battle being fought." If you'll look up the definition of war in any dictionary, it will tell you, in more or less words, that a war is a series of battles fought between hostile nations. If you'll look at any war in history, that's what it is—'battle after battle being fought.' So if history and the dictionary are any judges, your comments about my war are absolutely right—and I don't see what the problem is with that. If you'd like to elaborate further on how I can make the war less "generic," that would be appreciated.

* * *

Chapter 11  
Fallen

Link's long fall into the Mahala Gorge was brought to a swift end by the shock of impact with the frothing river. He plunged deep into the icy water, swallowing a lungful of it in panic as his clothes and the scimitar he still clutched in his hand dragged him down. He immediately let the scimitar go and kicked up toward the surface, fighting the harsh current as his muscles screamed in protest. At last his head broke the surface and he coughed and choked, spewing up the icy water he'd swallowed before sucking in much-needed air. He barely managed a full breath before the current of the swift Mahala River dragged him under again.

_One more time,_ Link thought grimly and fought his way up to the surface again. A flash of scarlet and gold caught his eye and he reacted without thinking, grabbing hold of the Gerudo girl who'd fallen into the gorge with him. Unfortunately this made fighting the current doubly hard, and they were nearly both swamped before Link managed to grab hold of the rough edge of a boulder sticking out of the water.

Swiftly he checked his burden. She was unconscious, water trickling from her open mouth. Link looked at the shore, only ten yards or so away, and grimly struck out, towing the Gerudo with one arm and fighting the current with all the strength in his other arm and legs. They were swamped twice and dragged several hundred feet downstream before Link's feet at last sunk into the river's bank. Hauling his burden over a shoulder, Link crawled to shore and collapsed on blessedly dry ground.

The Gerudo didn't stir as he rose again; Link lowered her gently to the ground and checked her vitals. She wasn't breathing. Praying that he wasn't too late, Link fisted his hands just below her ribcage and pushed down with several hard, quick pumps. Water spat from the Gerudo's mouth; she turned to her side to cough and sputter as Link sat back, limp with relief.

Only then did he wonder what the hell he thought he was doing, anyway. Why had he saved this girl? She was his enemy. She had tried to kill him just minutes before. He should have left her to drown in the river—yet even as the thought crossed his mind, Link knew he couldn't have done it.

He looked the still-unconscious girl over, noting that she breathed now without difficulty, and turned his head up toward the ribbon of sky at the top of the gorge, high above. He had no way of knowing how far the swift current had carried them from the battlefield since he and the Gerudo had plunged into the water, nor any idea how he was going to get out of this gorge. He was weaponless except for a small dagger at his belt, his arm was still bleeding from the neat slice in his bicep, and his entire body felt like it had been pounded with hammers.

He also had a hank of rope and his water canteen, which was lucky. He bound the wound on his arm with strips of cloth torn from his own tunic, then went to fill his canteen with fresh water from the river. He returned to the Gerudo's side to trickle a few drops into her mouth.

The Gerudo swallowed and opened green eyes. She blinked at him in confusion, then suddenly her eyes sharpened and she cursed, bolting upright and leaping for his dagger. She had her hands around the hilt before Link grabbed her arms and flipped her onto her belly. They struggled blindly for several minutes until Link finally managed to wrench her wrists up behind her back and bind them tightly together with his rope.

He sat back, gasping for breath, as the girl struggled against her bonds, spitting curses at him. He stared at her as he breathed, taking in the livid face streaked with dirt and blood, the eyes that glittered with anger and something else—fear? She glared at him murderously, her gaze never leaving his face as he unscrewed the canteen again to take a drink of his own, wondering what to do now.

He brushed damp hair out of his eyes and inquired, "If I untie you, are you going to try to cut my throat again?"

The girl responded with a string of curses. Shrugging, Link lay back in the dirt to watch the ribbon of sky above, tuning her out as he thought about his options. He ought to just leave her here—or perhaps untie her and send her on her way, if he were feeling generous. But while he at least had the dagger, he was very much mistaken if she had even that much in terms of weapons about her. And chances were she knew this gorge much better than he did.

He sat up to look at her again. She had quieted while he thought, but she watched him still with that animal gleam in her eyes, her hands trembling slightly behind her back. Link realized abruptly what she was afraid of.

"Don't worry," he said lightly. "I'm not going to do anything. I tied you up for _my_ protection. I don't doubt you're capable of killing me, even without your scimitars."

She continued to glare, though her trembling slowed somewhat. "Listen," Link began, then stopped. The sensible part of him told him this was a stupid idea, but since when had he ever acted sensibly?

"If you're going to say we got off on the wrong foot, spare me," the Gerudo bit before he could continue.

Link sighed. "I wasn't going to say that. I _was_ going to say that we're both in kind of a predicament. We may have been enemies on that battlefield, but if we're going to survive long enough to get back to our respective peoples I think we're going to have to work together."

The Gerudo's lip curled. "I don't form alliances with Hylian trash."

"Settle for a truce, then," Link said calmly. "Unless you'd rather I left you out here like this, without any weapons."

That gave her pause. "I don't know this land at all and I'll be damned if I have any idea where we are," Link continued swiftly. "You, on the other hand, have lived in the desert all your life, and I assume you know this gorge at least somewhat. If you can guide us out of here, then I'll protect and feed us." _Somehow,_ he thought grimly.

The Gerudo gave him a scornful look. "What could you protect, you insignificant male? Give me the dagger, and I'll guide us _and_ get us out of here alive."

Link shook his head. "I believe I'm the only one who hasn't tried to cut anyone's throat since we fell in this gorge," he pointed out wryly. "So I think I'll hang onto the weapon for now."

"At least untie me," the girl demanded.

"Are you going to give me any more trouble?" Link asked calmly. The girl didn't reply, biting down on her lip to stifle some sort of retort, and he realized that whatever he said to reassure her, she would probably still be a little afraid of him. Well, maybe that was for the best, he thought as he reached over to tug the ropes from their knots.

The girl sat up immediately when her arms were freed, massaging her wrists. She eyed him warily as he rolled the rope up and tied it to his belt, checking that the dagger was securely in its sheath.

"I'm Link," he said when he was done.

"Good for you."

"You have a name?"

"Inra."

"Inra. That's pretty." The girl snorted, and Link smiled slightly. "How old are you, anyway? Aren't you a little young to be fighting battles?"

Inra gave him another scornful look. "I fought desert cougars when I was nine years old. And I'm seventeen."

Link's eyebrows shot up. "Tell me another. You don't look a day over twelve."

Inra sucked in an outraged breath. "I'm fourteen!"

"Ahh." Link smiled while the girl sputtered and glared at him. "That sounds about right." He stood with a groan, ignoring Inra's muttered curses. "I think we have a few hours of sunlight left. We might as well use it."

Though Inra plainly didn't trust him any farther than she could throw him, she seemed to accept their momentary truce. The afternoon hours wore on as Link and Inra wandered through the gorge, following the river north. Every step they took away from Watersedge chafed at Link's nerves; he wanted to turn and run as fast as he could back to where he and Inra had fallen for some sign of the battle's outcome, of his friends' safety.

At the same time he knew it would be no use. What was done was done; getting out of this gorge, and seeing Inra safely back to her people, was his priority now. It didn't matter that she'd been trying to kill him barely an hour before. Chivalry was very clear about such situations, and besides, he wasn't going to leave a young girl in the wilderness all alone, no matter how good a fighter she was with scimitars.

Before long the gorge was all in shadows, the light from the orange-tinted sky above fading fast. Link and Inra chose to settle for the night on the clear, dry banks of the Mahala, building a fire to ward off animals—Inra fortunately had flint, which had dried as they walked—and agreeing on a watch schedule. Link had the first shift; he settled onto a rock to wait the hours out as Inra curled up on the ground beside him, quickly falling asleep.

The moon came out, lighting the gorge with an eerie silver glow. Link watched the stars overhead, shivering slightly in the cold desert air, and wondered where his friends were now, what they were doing. Zelda was undoubtedly asleep in her bedroom in the tower of the Hylian Palace—for a moment he could see her clearly, turning restlessly as though from bad dreams, and someone seemed to be watching her—then he blinked and the image was gone.

Shaking off the unease the picture had given him—undoubtedly the product of an overworked imagination—Link wondered where Ganondorf was now, thinking a quick prayer to Farore that he'd survived the battle. That strange reverie again, and a picture in his mind—he saw Ganondorf in a white robe that whipped around his powerful frame, at the head of dozens of women—

Link glanced up and saw a dark figure by the fire. Instantly he was on his feet, the dagger unsheathed in his hand, as the figure stepped closer. The firelight revealed inhumanly beautiful features under a shadowy hood.

Link stared. "Fallen?"

She gave a barely imperceptible nod. "You must come with me," her low voice issued from beneath the hood. "We have work to do."

Link glanced down at the sleeping Gerudo at his side. "What about Inra?" he asked, gesturing to her. "I can't just leave her alone here."

Fallen cocked her head to one side as she looked at him. "Why do you care what becomes of her? She is a Gerudo. Your enemy."

"Not right now," Link said firmly.

"I see." A note of satisfaction had entered her voice, as though his answer pleased her. She raised a hand from beneath the long cloak and made a gesture in midair; Link saw nothing, but felt a sudden sense of peace, of _rightness,_ fleeing by him like the flight of a bird. Inra rolled over with a peaceful sigh and sunk into a deeper sleep.

"She will not be harmed in your absence, nor wake until you return. Now come. Time passes quickly in this land."

Link hadn't the slightest idea what she meant, but he was not about to argue with a woman who could appear and disappear like an otherworldly spirit. With a last glance at the sleeping Inra, he got to his feet and followed Fallen as she swept away over the dusty banks of the Mahala.

He followed her for quite some time downstream, neither of them speaking. There was a chill in the air that had nothing to do with the cold; the stars were glittering icily overhead and the moon seemed to cast its glow wherever Fallen stepped, so that a sort of silvery halo surrounded the cloaked woman.

At last he and Fallen stopped before a metal door set into the cliff face that Link was entirely certain had not been there before this night.

The door swung silently open as Fallen stepped toward it, revealing an orange glow beyond. "Come," Fallen said quietly, pausing in the threshold.

Somehow Link forced his legs to move, and followed her inside. It was a smithy, he realized suddenly, seeing the warm glow of the forge that was the place's only light. The door swung silently shut behind him as he stepped away from it.

Fallen went immediately to the forge to remove a length of cherry-red metal from the coals. Link watched dumbfounded as she carried it to the anvil and picked up a flat hammer that looked far too heavy for her to handle.

"Steel," the woman said, bringing the hammer down several times on the metal with clangs that reverberated in his very bones. "Steel mined from the sacred land, bare of all impurities, steel to last as long as the goddesses themselves." She thrust the sword back into the forge until it was heated to a fiery glow, then returned it to an anvil to strike again.

"Three times to shape the steel." Her voice, low and commanding, filled the smithy over the clanging strikes of the hammer. "A perfect sword, shaped by timeless hands, indestructible. Three times for strength and sharpness."

A low hum filled the air as the sword returned to the forge, as though it were trying to speak. Fallen let it heat, then laid it on the anvil and began to hammer once more.

"Blood to bind the sword to its wielder. Blood to bind to the immortal soul."

She thrust the sword into the forge until the metal glowed, then turned to Link with the sword in hand. For the first time he was struck by how she towered over him in the forge light, how she handled the cherry-red metal with bare hands.

"Bare your hands," she commanded, and Link could not conceive of refusing. He extended his hands, realizing only at the last second what Fallen intended to do as she raised the sword and sliced across his bare palms.

The pain was less than it should have been as blood poured from the sizzling gashes. Link felt detached from his own body, as though he watched the scene unfold from someone else's point of view. He watched numbly as Fallen took his hands—then she pressed both palms against either side of the white-hot metal.

A scream tore from his throat at the pain as the blistering sword pulled his blood from his body, even as it cauterized the flesh of his hands. Fallen kept both hands pressed firmly against the metal for minutes that felt like eternity as he struggled to break free, but the woman's strength was unfathomable. At last she let him go, and Link fell to his knees, cradling his throbbing hands, as Fallen laid the sword in the forge again. His head swam with sickness and pain, and the last thing he saw was the woman's uncompromising form silhouetted in the forge light before he slumped forward in a dead faint.

When he woke later in a cold sweat, the terrible pain in his hands reduced to a dull ache, he had no notion of how long he'd been unconscious. He looked at his hands and saw that the gashes in them were neatly cauterized, the skin around the closed, pink scars bearing no sign that they'd been pressed against a length of white-hot metal for a prolonged time. Fallen sat before the dimmed forge, polishing a gleaming, finished longsword.

She rose as Link staggered to his feet, exhausted, and held the sword out to him, handle first. "It is yours," she said calmly. "It is called the Master Sword, and it is the greatest sword this world will ever see."

Link stared at her warily, then slowly reached out a hand, half-expecting more blinding pain when he touched the handle. But the handle was cool, and as he hefted the sword's weight in his hands, he carefully ran his fingertips over the blade, noting the tempering that would help it retain its deadly sharp edge. It was the perfect weight for his strength, and fit in his hand as though it belonged there.

"Your blood is mixed with the steel," Fallen told him, handing him a scabbard that would fasten on his back. "It is bound to you forever. In all of your lives, wherever you wander, it will follow you. If you lose it, it will find you again. Whenever you have need of it, it will be by your side."

Link stared at her, overwhelmed. "Why? Why make something like this for me? I—I'm just a knight, there are dozens of warriors greater than me—"

"This has nothing to do with skill," Fallen interrupted. "It is destiny. The Master Sword is meant for you, only you. And you will need it, in this life and all those to come."

"Why?" he demanded. "What destiny? What lives to come? What are you talking about?"

"You will discover those answers on your own. Now, you must leave. I have done a great working here, and I am tired. I need to rest."

But Link suddenly had a hundred questions he wanted answered. "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"I am a goddess and mother of goddesses. I was here long before your Golden Goddesses created this land, and I will remain long after they have faded into oblivion."

"Why did you choose me for this destiny?" he demanded. "Why not someone else?"

"I did not choose you. Nor do I know who or what did, if anyone chose you at all. I simply knew it was you, as I knew the others."

"Others? What others?"

"You will know eventually. Now go." The door swung open behind him. A force urged him on, and he walked out into sunlight.

* * *

To be continued.


	12. Parting

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

So sorry for the late update! I decided to wait a week because I was having trouble getting through the next chapter, and then I went off to AnimeNext (a convention in Secaucus) and totally forgot to update first! I'm back now (check my LJ if you'd like to read about my convention adventures) and just remembered I hadn't updated yet, so here's the next chapter.

Lots of reviews for the last chapter; thanks, everyone! I'm glad everyone seemed to like my version of the Master Sword's creation.

Crimson-88 had a question: "Since Link is the only one who can use it, will it be impossible for others to use the sword, like pick it up cause it weighs a million pounds for someone other than Link?" No, it doesn't work like that. Anyone can pick it up and use it like a normal sword, but it's more than that for Link. The ritual to mix his blood with the steel created a bond between him and the sword. It'll follow him throughout all his lives (talking about reincarnation here) and will only show whatever true powers it possesses to him.

* * *

Chapter 12  
Parting

"What is _that?"_ Inra demanded, eyes wide as she gazed at the Master Sword. "Where in Din's name did you get it?"

Link gave the sword an experimental swing, wondering how much he should tell his Gerudo companion. "A lady gave it to me."

"How could a lady give you a sword when we're wandering around down here? I know you didn't have it yesterday. Why would she give you a sword in the first place?"

"I have no idea," Link confessed truthfully.

"Maybe you went sleepwalking and found it," Inra mused as Link tested the Master Sword's weight and balance. It was a longsword, with more length to it than the sword he'd lost on the battlefield, but light enough to wield with one hand. "Maybe you just dreamed the lady. It could have floated down the river from the battle at your fort."

"It could have," Link agreed absently, though he knew none of the previous night's events had been a dream. The scars on his hand proved that much.

Once Inra was finished questioning him about the sword, they headed off through the gorge again, searching for a way out. The day was cool in the gorge's shadowed depths, but Link and Inra were both weak and exhausted from the battle a day before. They hunted unsuccessfully for game, and finally stopped to cut branches from a gnarled tree grown out of the cliff face and shape them into spears. After a few frustrating hours, Inra managed to spear three fish from the river, and they roasted and ate them by a fire that evening.

Unable to get over Inra's age, Link couldn't stop himself from asking, "Weren't you scared in that battle?"

She gave him a withering look. "Were _you?"_

Link paused. "Definitely," he said at last. "I thought I was going to die. I thought my friends and squadmates were going to die—I don't even know what happened to any of them." He laughed shortly. "My horse is dead. That's all I know."

"I don't know about any of my sisters, either," Inra said gloomily, staring into the fire. "Maybe they're all dead."

Link wanted to reassure her, but he couldn't be certain about anything that had come from that battle. Besides, who was he to be reassuring, when the deaths of a tribe of Gerudo would bring his side one step closer to victory?

"What will you do if they are?" he asked instead.

Inra shrugged. "I suppose another tribe will take me in. I hope. Sometimes when a tribe is slaughtered there are only a few survivors, the others regard them as unlucky and treat them like outcasts."

Link stared at her, bewildered and appalled by the idea. "But that doesn't make any sense."

Inra made a face at him. "No one asked you for your opinion, _Hylian."_

Link didn't bother correcting her on his heritage, knowing it wouldn't make any difference to her as long as he fought for the Hylian side. He also knew better than to suggest she come north. All he could do was hope that her tribe was still alive, at last most of them.

The next day passed as the previous—he and Inra wandered through the seemingly endless gorge, fishing for their meals. Inra seemed to know where she was going now, pointing out landmarks she recognized as they walked along. At last, in mid-afternoon, Inra gave a joyful shout and pointed toward a set of steps carved of rock that twisted up the cliff face.

"I knew we were going the right way!" she said triumphantly as she scrambled up the cliff face ahead of Link. He followed with considerably less enthusiasm, noting that the steps were carved into the west side of the Mahala Gorge, leading up into Gerudo land.

The desert stretched out before them when they reached the top, gleaming with white sand. Link cast a rueful glance toward the Hylian border, just over the gorge, and wondered how far he was from the Sourrem Bridge, near the knights' encampment.

More importantly, what was he supposed to do now? He glanced at Inra, who was practically bouncing in happiness at being back on her land. He had done what he promised, hadn't he? She was in the desert now, so she would be safe.

But he couldn't be sure of that. She was too close to the border to go wandering around weaponless, when Hylian scouts might find her. He had to see her safely back to her people.

Inra glanced up at him, as though she sensed what was going through his mind. "You can go now," she told him, pointing northward. "The bridge is about ten miles, I think."

Link grimaced. _I'm going to regret this,_ he thought ruefully as he turned resolutely from the Hylian border. "Let's get you back to your people first. You'd be crazy to risk wandering around border country alone during a war, especially without weapons."

"Look," Inra said exasperatedly, "just go! I don't trust my sisters not to kill you at first sight!"

Link shrugged. "I don't trust my people not to do the same to you."

"Are you stupid!" she yelled, clearly out of patience. "You're a Hylian! I'm a Gerudo! We're enemies! Why should you care if I get killed?"

"What about you?" he pointed out. "Why do you care if your sisters kill me?"

Inra glared at him. "You saved my life in that river," she snapped. "I haven't forgotten."

Link smiled crookedly as he turned and trudged toward the west. "If I get killed, you can blame it on my own stupidity. Let's just go, all right?"

"I think you're touched in the head," Inra growled as she ran to catch up with him. "First you save my life, then you get that sword out of nowhere, and now this…just my luck, to get stuck with an idiot like you. Don't say I didn't warn you."

He wouldn't, Link thought with wry humor as he and Inra trekked across the long desert. It was far hotter out here than in the gorge, the sun beating down mercifully until they'd both begun to sweat. They rationed the water in Link's canteen, knowing it was their only supply until they found (or were found by) the Gerudo, but it evaporated all too quickly nonetheless.

Link had a reasonable certainty that he was going to die out here. Whether by lack of water or hostile Gerudo he didn't know, but in the meantime, he was determined to do everything he could to help Inra get back to her people. At least then he could stand before the goddesses with a clean conscience.

He wondered if his fate in the battle had been reported to the north yet; perhaps they thought he was already dead. It twisted his gut to think how Zelda might receive such news, and he realized with a sudden start how much he wanted to go home and see her again. He had never allowed himself to feel homesick, but here, out in the desert with little hope of survival, all he could think of was how much he wished he could be there, at the castle in the north with his friends.

Inra, walking ahead of him, stopped abruptly, shading her eyes to look toward the horizon. Link followed her gaze to see a cloud of dust far off in the distance, like a squad of riders.

"You think it's a mirage?" Inra whispered.

Link shook his head. "They're coming this way."

He exchanged a glance with the Gerudo, then Link smiled crookedly and shrugged. There was no point in running off now when he would undoubtedly be spotted and pursued. Inra chewed her lower lip worriedly as the riders approached, thundering on the packed sands.

They surrounded them—six Gerudo warriors mounted on horseback, three with scimitars, two with bows and one who appeared to be a headsister. "Sister Inra of the Spiritwind Tribe, we are glad to find you safe," the headsister said formally before turning her hard brown eyes to Link. She gave a sharp nod, and the two archers raised their bows.

"No!" Inra jumped in front of him, arms outstretched. "Headsister Rehan of the Mahala Tribe, please, you can't kill him," she said breathlessly.

"Step out of the way, Sister Inra," the headsister said quietly.

"No! I owe this man a blood debt! He saved my life!"

The headsister hesitated, looking at Link again. "Is this true?" she demanded.

"Inra and I fell into the gorge during a fight," Link said evenly. "We were lucky enough to fall into the river."

"Link saved me from drowning," Inra explained quickly. "He escorted me out of the gorge and across the desert this far, knowing the peril to his own life. Please don't kill him."

Rehan's mount shifted beneath her, as if reflecting its mistress's uncertainty. At last the headsister gestured, and the archers lowered their bows. "Debts must be repaid," she said evenly. "Kasala."

"Sir!" a Gerudo responded sharply, saluting from the saddle.

"Take this man to our tents," Rehan ordered, gesturing toward Link. "Give him food and water and a healthy mount, and send him on his way." Her eyes met Link. "In gratitude for your clemency toward our sister, we will allow you to leave the desert unharmed. Return to your northern queen. If you come here again, we will kill you."

Link nodded. "I understand. Thank you, headsister."

The Gerudo made a dismissive noise. "Mount up behind me, Inra. We will escort you to your tribe."

Inra turned toward Link, her eyes searching his. Abruptly she scowled. "I don't like goodbyes," she informed him. "If I see you on the battlefield, your life is mine."

Link smiled. "I won't begrudge you for it. Take care, Inra."

"Hmph." The girl climbed into the saddle behind Rehan. "So long, Hylian."

The riders galloped away, with the exception of Kasala, who ordered him to mount behind her. In the Mahala Tribe's tents Link was given food by wary Gerudo and plenty of water to see him out of the desert safely. Kasala then brought the horse they had chosen for him, a pretty black mare the Gerudo called Twilight, and the tribe saw him on his way, watching him carefully until he was out of sight.

It was only after he and Twilight had crossed Sourrem Bridge that Link remembered Rehan's instructions to return to the north.

She had spoken of his northern queen.

Heart thudding in his ears, he spurred the mare faster, riding toward the Hylian Kingdom.

* * *

The funeral for Queen Leona was attended by thousands of somber Hylian subjects, from nobles to peasants, all dressed in dark colors of mourning. Zelda watched her mother's body return to the earth with a numbness that had settled over her from the moment Leona died in her bed. Even through the long illness she had never wanted to think that she might lose her mother, who was as strong as she was sensible and had always, in her own quiet way, had faith that Zelda would succeed the throne. 

Her father, too, put on a stoic face for the funeral, and stood quietly by as his wife's body was lowered into the earth, but Zelda knew he must be devastated. His marriage to Leona had been quiet and content, but Zelda had no doubts about the depth of her parents' love for one another. For the first time she found herself thinking soberly that perhaps an arranged marriage was not such a terrible thing. That way, at least one's soul didn't tear in two when their spouse died.

A period of mourning in the Hylian Kingdom was announced, to last until Midsummer's Day, and from then forward Zelda began to attend meetings and councils in person as a representative of the Crown. She had offered to do so after Leona's funeral, to give her father a break from the business of kingship. General Alaster sent word of Sandpit's fall—Zelda oversaw the posting of the dead soldiers' roster—and reports of the enemy's movement in the south, which Zelda passed on to her father. After several days, however, it became clear that Harkinian had no interest in the kingdom or the war. Zelda continued to conduct affairs of state and held her tongue when she wanted to scream aloud in frustration.

"I am _never_ marrying," she told Impa vehemently one night as the Sheikah woman combed her hair for as she prepared for bed. "I'm never falling in love, either."

Impa raised her eyebrows at her in the mirror. "Can you say that for sure? These things have a tendency to catch you off-guard, you know."

"They won't, not if I can help it," Zelda said grimly. "Not after seeing my father like this. It's as though a part of him has died. I know he loved my mother—" Her voice caught as she saw her mother's smiling face in her mind's eye, and for a moment the tears she'd held inside since Leona's death threatened to overwhelm her. Her eyes burned, and she blinked furiously to hold them back.

"They were inseparable," Impa said softly, gently stroking Zelda's hair.

The princess nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Could I do that, Impa? Could I love someone enough that I'd forget my vows to the kingdom and its people?" She shook her head. "I'm not sure I want to find out."

"I suppose I can't blame you." Impa's hand stilled against her hair momentarily. "Your Highness—I wanted to ask you about Sheik. Is he—"

She knew instinctively what Impa wanted. "He's—well, useful," she muttered. "He's a goddess-send, really. He does everything I request without asking anything in return, but—" She hesitated, wanting to say everything, wanting to tell Impa how she didn't trust him, how he terrified her as much as the thought of losing Link or Ganondorf or her father terrified her.

Impa's hand stroked her back soothingly. "Poor Zelda," she said gently, and without warning, the tears spilled over. Zelda buried her face in her hands and cried—for her mother, for her father, for the uncertainty of her friends' and subjects' and kingdom's future. Impa rubbed her back as her mother had done when she was a little girl, woken from nightmares in the dark.

At last she managed to get control of herself and straightened, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I apologize. I didn't mean to do that."

"You don't have to apologize. With your friends gone I suppose I'm the only one who you can afford to show emotion in front of." Impa finished combing her hair and placed the comb down on the dresser. "It's cold tonight. I wonder if it's warm in the desert?"

"Must be," Zelda said sleepily.

Impa prodded up the fire while Zelda changed into a nightshift, then turned to leave. She hesitated. "Your Highness…"

The princess looked at her. "What is it, Impa?"

"There's something you should know about Sheik." The woman paused again. "He's—"

A fervent knock interrupted her. Impa and Zelda blinked at one another, then the Sheikah went to open one of the chamber doors.

"Yes?"

"The princess," a man's urgent voice said from the hall. "Is she—?"

Zelda finished buttoning the collar of her nightshift and moved forward so the man could see her. It was a footman she recognized, who normally served her parents. He bowed to her shortly, face ashen.

"You must come, Your Highness." He licked his lips. "It's—"

She pushed past him to stride quickly down the hall, not pausing to hear his explanation. Impa and the footman hurried after her as she descended the long stairs in the turret, heading straight for her parents' bedroom.

A group of anxious-looking people milled around it, just as they had the night her mother died. Zelda walked unhesitatingly into the fray, shouldering rudely past palace livery to get to the chamber doors. A guard caught her arm, stopping her.

"Your Highness, you don't want to—"

"Unhand me at once," Zelda said quietly, and something in her face must have convinced him she meant it, because he let go immediately and stepped back, face pale.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, I—I never meant—"

She turned and pushed open the doors to her parents' bedroom. The crowd behind her abruptly fell silent.

King Harkinian lay still on the bed, eyes closed, an empty goblet on the nightstand beside him. His face was as pale as marble, white and still, and even in her shocked horror and disbelief, Zelda could not bring herself to regret that her parents had gone together into death.

* * *

To be continued.


	13. Queen

_A note from the Hime no Argh—_

It comes at least once every fic, usually several times; my fellow writers probably know what I'm talking about—_that chapter. _The one you _just can't finish, _no matter what you do. This has been that chapter for me. At long last I managed to finish it up, and ye god am I glad to be done with it. Sorry for the long wait; it was the unfortunate result of that awful disease, writer's block. I think it's broken now.

Much as I'd like to promise that the next chapter won't be so long in coming, I shouldn't tempt fate; however, I'm reasonably certain that the wait between chapters will be shorter. At least I'll give it my every effort. It will probably be some time before I go back to weekly updates; for now, expect that new chapters will be out within a two-week interval. You can check my bio for any changes; I'll keep it updated on my writing status.

Thanks for your patience, your readership, and your reviews. Apologies to my beta, SSJ, for not sending the chapter ahead of time—I wanted to go ahead and get it posted. I didn't even read this one over, so please forgive any technical errors.

* * *

Chapter 13  
Queen

Messengers went out at dawn, to spread the word across the Hylian Kingdom that for the second time within a week, a royal personage had died. The official message would say that King Harkinian III had wasted away of grief over the death of his wife. Only Zelda and a dozen or so palace workers knew the truth, though many would come to suspect that Harkinian had, indeed, poisoned and killed himself.

Harkinian was entombed in the Hall of Kings, as was tradition, though Zelda wished he could be buried with his wife. She attended the funeral with the most impassive face she could muster. She could not afford to show any sign of weakness, not at this time, not when the Castletown gossip mills were already whispering that Zelda's reign must be cursed. A prophecy, a war, two dead monarchs—she didn't blame them.

It hurt that she couldn't afford to mourn. Crying would have helped.

The morning after her father's funeral was dreary and gray, as though the goddesses had joined in the kingdom's mourning for Harkinian and Leona. Zelda woke shortly before sunrise, scrubbed her face, braided her hair, put on a gray shift—she would wear dark or pale colors until mourning was officially over—and left her room, before any of her attendants could come to see she was awake.

She descended the turret and headed to the chapel in the east wing of the palace. The halls were nearly deserted but for a few tired-looking palace workers, all dressed in mourning colors, many ashen, their eyes red-rimmed.

A pair of maids were just finishing sweeping out the chapel, blocking the doorway as they talked quietly about the war. "Excuse me," Zelda interrupted them politely when they appeared not to notice she wanted to pass. The maids started and got of the way quickly, curtsying. One of them murmured, "Your Majesty."

Zelda halted in her tracks and looked at her, startled. The young woman blinked at her. "Did you need something?"

"No—no. It's all right." Zelda shook her head. "It's just—strange, to be called that."

The maid smiled bravely. "That's all right, Your Majesty. I felt the same when I married and took my husband's name. You just have to get used to it, that's all."

Zelda tried a smile. "I suppose you're right. Thank you." The maids curtsied again and closed the doors to the chapel behind her.

The chapel was quite small, built for the benefit of those too old or sick to go to Castletown to pray at the Temple of Time. In a way, Zelda preferred it to the temple—it was cozy and intimate, and brilliantly lit at dawn, its color-tinted windows facing the east. At the altar was a replica of the sculpture that stood in the Great Foyer, the Trinity of the Goddesses. Zelda approached the altar to stare up into the carved faces of three goddesses—one stern, one gentle, one violent. She curtsied deferentially, then took a seat on one of the pews.

_Can I really do this?_ she thought, gazing blindly out the windows behind the altar that faced the east, where the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Zelda smiled humorlessly. _It's not even a question of whether I can do this or not. I _have_ to do this. _

Part of her almost regretted never marrying any of her suitors. At least her mother and father had had one another for support and guidance. She had no one but herself. A kingdom at war, her parents dead, her best friends far away…she almost believed the rumors herself that her reign was cursed.

"I can't do this," she whispered aloud in the silent chapel.

"No one else can do it better," a voice intruded on her thoughts. "No one else can do it at all."

Zelda closed her eyes, then opened them again. "Sheik, show yourself," she said tiredly.

He landed on the floor between her and the altar, casting an almost careless glance back at the stone goddesses. "Is this not what you wanted?" He turned his eyes to her, sounding genuinely curious. "At one time you prayed for this, for sovereignty unshared."

"That was months ago," Zelda said wearily. "I never wanted it at this price."

"The price of a kingdom," Sheik said dismissively.

"Don't speak of my parents' death in such terms," she said sharply, a flare of anger penetrating the numbness she'd felt since she'd found Harkinian dead in his bedroom. "They were people, not just a king and queen. They had dreams and hopes of their own. Does that mean nothing to you?"

"Why should it? They were not the ones I served. If anything, they stood in the way of my rightful mistress." He gazed at her unflinchingly. "In your service, they were enemies, as much as any Gerudo."

Zelda stood, heart thudding in her ears. "I never asked for your service," she said tightly. "Nor do I want it now. Get out, Sheik."

His eyes widened slightly. "Are you dismissing me, Your Majesty?"

"Don't call me that."

"It is what you are."

"I don't care!" Her voice rang sharply in the empty chapel. With some effort, Zelda lowered it. "Go. Just…go."

His eyes never left hers. "I'll go. But you will see me again, Your Majesty. You need me."

When he had left, Zelda dropped back onto the pew, resting her face in her palms. She felt more exhausted than she had in a long time, and for the moment, not at all certain she could face the future.

"Your Majesty?"

She looked behind her. Impa peered in from the chapel doors. "So this is where you are," the Sheikah said in her usual businesslike tone, bustling down the aisle. She placed a cool, dry hand against Zelda's forehead. "Your attendants were frightened when they didn't find you in your room this morning," she said quietly. "I diverted them to other tasks, but you'd best go assure the palace that you're still here."

Zelda smiled humorlessly. "Did they think I killed myself? I wouldn't have the courage."

"Don't say things like that," Impa said sharply. "It's the last thing we need, for the kingdom to think our sole surviving member of the Royal Family is having such dangerous thoughts. Stand up, go out there, and be strong! Your people need you. And I shouldn't have to tell you any of this, either. I would have thought you'd take your mother's dying words to heart."

That hit home. Zelda got to her feet, brushing off her skirts. "I am sorry," she said quietly. "I'll go."

Impa sighed. "I don't blame you. I certainly don't envy your position." She rested her hand briefly on Zelda's shoulder. "Anything you need, anything I can do for you, I will," the Sheikah said seriously. "I'm yours, Your Majesty, for as long as you need me."

Zelda squeezed Impa's hand with hers, throat to tight to speak. "Thank you," she said at last when she'd gotten herself under control.

Impa nodded. "First things first," she said as they left the chapel together. "Your advisors want to meet with you. They have some suggestions to ease the transition of rulership, and they have reports from the border."

Zelda nodded. "You called them my advisors, Impa. Do they think of themselves that way?"

Impa met her eyes. "I don't know. You are their queen, though the idea may be…new to them."

"So I thought," Zelda said distantly. She had a feeling this would be her most important meeting with the Council in her entire reign.

They halted outside the double doors of the conference room, carved with likenesses of Nayru, the goddess of wisdom. "I'll tell you what I told your mother when she first appeared before the Council as the king's wife," Impa said, straightening creases out of the bodice of Zelda's gown. "Dogs can smell fear."

Zelda had to stifle unexpected laughter. "Impa, that's a terrible comparison!"

Impa's crimson eyes gleamed wickedly. "If it puts Her Majesty at ease," she said innocently.

Zelda smiled a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in weeks. "Thank you." Taking a breath, she faced the doors with squared shoulders. "Announce me?"

"Of course." Impa threw open the double doors and stepped in. "Her Majesty, Queen Zelda."

The men of the Council all rose as Zelda entered the room, her face schooled into an impassive mask. She knew all of these men, had known them since she was a little girl. Now the child they had once petted and spoiled was their queen. Were they afraid, with the kingdom in the hands of a seventeen year old girl? She was.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she said quietly. "I regret the need to have to meet under these circumstances."

"As do we all, Your Majesty." Lamorac, High Minister, was the oldest member of the Council and known for his loyalty to Harkinian; she was deeply gratified to hear her new title from the man who had once bounced her on his knee as a little girl. Grief had deepened the lines of his face, and there was a catch in his throat as he went on, "Their Royal Majesties' deaths are a tragedy from which the Hylian Kingdom will not soon recover."

Zelda nodded soberly. "With your faith, gentlemen…" She paused, thinking of her father's face as she had seen it many times, stern and grave in front of his Council; smiling at the content of his wife and daughter and kingdom. Her mother on her deathbed, telling Zelda her time had come. _You were ready for this from the cradle, _she had said.

Zelda looked into the faces of the men of her Council. "With your faith, I will assume my father's place," she said firmly. _"My_ place. Sovereignty, and everything it entails, is rightfully mine. I will do my duty."

Lamorac was the first to bow, a gnarled hand fisted over his heart. The other men followed suit, and did not resume their seats until Zelda took hers, distinctly relieved.

"Your permission to begin this session of the Council, Your Majesty?" Lamorac inquired. When Zelda nodded, he stood again and cleared his throat. "In lieu of the deaths of our royal personages, the business of the kingdom must go on. We have reports and dispatches from General Alaster, as well as a new roster of the dead and missing. In addition, Perrem has a few words to say about the coronation of our new Queen."

Perrem, the Master of Ceremonies, stood, shuffling a stack of papers in his hands. Zelda had known him, too, since she was young; he had a constant air of harassment and seemed thrive on disaster at stately affairs. He stared at his papers as he spoke, glasses perched on the end of his nose. "Regarding the coronation of the queen, it would be unwise to rush into such a ceremony without due time of mourning for Their Majesties Harkinian and Leona, may the goddesses bless their passing. We therefore ask if, after an appropriate period during which Her Majesty Zelda will serve unofficially as Queen of Hylia, Her Majesty has any thoughts as to a proper date for—"

"Midsummer," Zelda said without thinking. All eyes turned to her; she flushed and drew herself up in her chair. "My mother's period of mourning was to officially end on Midsummer Day," she said politely. "As my father's death followed so closely, it would not be inappropriate for his mourning to end on the holiday as well. It's my coming-of-age as well, not to mention the start of the new year."

"A symbolic new beginning," Alain, the Less Minister, suggested. "This is a joyous ceremony, fitting to mark the transition of a tragic, violent year to, goddesses willing, a year of peace and celebration."

"Yes, it's fitting enough," Perrem said distractedly, now scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment and muttering seemingly to himself. "Little time to plan…set my people immediately…yes, we should have the soldiers home, those who can be spared…" He glanced up at Zelda, giving her a scrutinizing look. "Her Majesty will need attire for the occasion."

"I trust your judgment in the affair," Zelda said patiently. "I'll leave the details to you. Let me know if you have need of me." She glanced at Lamorac. "What else?"

"Just the dispatches from General Alaster, Your Majesty."

Jolon, captain of the Palace Guard and Alaster's go-between, spoke up; he too had a stack of papers in his hand. "Alaster sent word of another mass attack on one of our forts," he said quietly. "Watersedge in the south was attacked by a full four tribes of Gerudo. The soldiers and knights stationed at the fort managed to drive them away, but we took heavy losses. I have a roster of the dead and missing…and…" He cleared his throat.

Zelda stared at him, noting his clear discomfort. "And what?"

Jolon stared carefully at the polished wood of the table. "Forgive me, but I took the liberty of…of speaking to Your Majesty's attendance when I recognized names on the roster. It's known that Your Majesty is—acquainted—with one of the Silver Knights and a soldier in Second Company, also a Gerudo…"

Zelda's throat went dry. "What?"

"It's known that they were both stationed at Watersedge at the time of the attack. There was a squad that went missing—captured, Captain Pavel believes, by the Gerudo. The soldier of Second Company is among them."

He passed Zelda a sheet of names belonged to the missing, who stared at it without really seeing.

"As for the knight…he's listed on the roster of the dead."

For a moment Zelda was sure that she hadn't heard right, that it was a mistake or all some horrible joke—Ganondorf captured and Link dead, it wasn't possible, they were good fighters both and besides, they would've looked after each other at Watersedge. But then another piece of parchment was pressed into her hands, bearing the names of the dead, and Zelda's eyes found Link's immediately, listed under the Silver Knights' losses. And here, on the first sheet—ten men or so missing, all from Second Company, Ganondorf's name among them…

"This can't be right," Zelda said clearly. "This…" She looked at the sheets again. Both of them? In the same week as her parents? She wanted to laugh. It was a joke.

Lamorac was looking at her with considerable alarm. "Your Majesty…"

"High Minister, my parents are dead," she told him, meeting his eyes directly. "These—" She tapped the paper, "—are my closest friends. The goddesses are not this cruel."

Lamorac gripped her hand, his gnarled fingers holding hers with bone-crushing tightness. "Fetch a healer," he snapped to a footman waiting at the door. "Her Majesty is in shock."

"I'm not in shock," Zelda protested. "Nothing's wrong with me. It's these papers that are wrong." Her vision was blurred when she looked down at them again, so much that she couldn't make out the names. Tears, she thought in surprise, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand. Why should she be crying over a list of names that was so clearly wrong? She thought she had cried all the tears in her, the night after her father's death.

Unless…was it possible…?

A tightness seemed to obstruct her chest until she could barely breathe. She knew there were words being spoken to her, people around her, but they weren't penetrating through the haze in her mind. Link dead, Ganondorf missing, quite possibly dead himself—the Gerudo were not forgiving. Her mother, slipping peacefully into death in front of her eyes. Her father, dead with poison in his veins that he himself had ingested.

Her head swam, and blackness closed in from the edges of her vision.

The next she knew, a feeling of coolness was sweeping through her veins, pushing away the sickness and penetrating the black haze. She was lying on her back on the floor of the Councilroom, staring at the ceiling. A young healer she vaguely recognized knelt at her side, steely-gazed, gripping her hand; the coolness had come from her, then. Impa knelt at her other side, brushing hair away from her forehead.

"Your Majesty?"

There was something she needed to do. "I've got to go to the chapel," Zelda murmured, pushing herself up; the healer and Impa grasped her arms to steady her and help her to her feet.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Impa said sharply. She glanced at the healer.

"Bed rest," the young woman said firmly. "Maybe something to clear her head."

"We will, of course, resume at another time," Lamorac offered. He and the other Councilmen stood a respectful distance away.

"No," Zelda said just as firmly, though her legs were shaky. "That is—we can resume, yes, but—I need to go to the chapel. I need to look at their faces."

"Do you want company?" Impa asked worriedly, still gripping her arm tightly as though she feared she would fall over.

"No." Zelda gently disentangled herself. "No company."

She managed the short trip to the chapel on her own, leaving her worried attendant and Councilmen behind. The fog had cleared but the tightness in her chest was still there, a band of iron that seemed to obstruct thought and action as much as her breathing. She didn't know what to think or do with it.

She let the heavy doors of the chapel swing silently shut behind her and approached the stone goddesses, her shoes tapping on the marble floor. The goddesses' faces were as blank and unwavering as ever when she stopped before the altar and stared up at them, feeling rather as though she were carved of stone herself.

She didn't know how long she stood there, motionless, silent, watching their faces. At last she spoke.

"I tried to be strong. After my parents, that is. I knew that it would happen someday, though I never expected nor wanted it so soon. Still I tried my best, for their sake and the sake of the kingdom. But this...this is too much."

She waited. The faces did not change; no voice answered her, offering words of consolation and comfort.

Zelda drew in a shaky breath. "How do you expect me to go on now? My parents are dead, one of my best friends is dead, and it's probably only a matter of time for the other. I'm not strong enough to handle this and the entire kingdom. I thought when I took the throne, I'd at least have my friends' support, if not my parents', and now—now I have _nothing_, no one to help me, no one to stand by me, no one to even remind me that I'm _human—" _Her voice broke with a half-laugh, half-sob.

There was no sign or acknowledgment; the goddesses remained silent and aloof, uncaring of the pain of a single mortal. Without warning a terrible anger swept over her; she dug her nails into her palms until she drew blood. What right did _they_ have to remain silent in the face of her accusations, beings who watched the lives of humans come and go as though they were the lives of ants? _They_ wove the threads of life and death, _they_ guided the currents of peace and strife and the paths of mortals—they decided who lived or died!

"This is _your fault!"_ she exploded, not caring what retribution the goddesses extracted for her words. "You're not merciful, you're heartless, cruel—you've taken _everything_ from me!"

The iron in her chest constricted to the point of pain, the fog threatened to overtake her again, but through the rage and hurt she heard a quiet voice behind her speak.

"Not everything."

For a moment she froze, wondering wildly whether the goddesses had seen fit to actually answer her. But no—this voice was young and male, and she knew it.

Slowly, slowly, holding her breath, Zelda turned.

Link stood in the threshold of the chapel doors, skin darkened from the desert sun, a makeshift bandage wrapped around his upper arm, his tunic dirty and streaked with blood, but his smile, weary and worn as the rest of him, was still _his_ smile.

"Hello, Zelda."

She was in his arms before she knew what was happening, her face buried against his shoulder, his arms so tight around her that she could barely breathe. And beyond even her utter joy that he was alive, there was wonder and bewilderment and dizzy gladness that here, in his arms, she felt as though she'd had come home.

* * *

To be continued.


	14. Sidh

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

This chapter was finished surprisingly quickly, though I waited a while to post it so I could get a good head start on Chapter 15. Thanks to those who reviewed! Glad to see people didn't forget this fic exists during the hiatus between chapters 12 and 13. Chapter 15 will be along...eventually. Look for it within a week or two. In the meantime, enjoy, and thanks for reading!

* * *

Chapter 14  
Sidh

The jostling of a horse beneath his slumped form woke Ganondorf, though it took his muddled head a long time to process why he had woken on a horse with wrists bound tightly in front of him, traveling under a fiercely beating sun that was doing nothing for his headache. He attributed his former state of unconsciousness to the fist-sized lump on the back of his skull but was unable to remember exactly how it had gotten there. There had been a battle, he remembered that much; the pain in his forearm from an unfortunate gash could attest to that. But why was he tied up on a horse?

When Ganondorf looked to the side and saw a haughty-faced Gerudo mounted on a horse beside his, it all fell into place with a disheartening thump.

"Oh no," he groaned.

"Quiet," the Gerudo snapped, jerking on the reins of his horse, which she held in her hand. Ganondorf took a look around. Hylian soldiers were interspersed with the Gerudo, some unconscious, some awake and staring before them in stony silence, their hands tied. Some were on horses led by mounted Gerudo; others walked, tied in a train like animals. A few of them saw Ganondorf looking and exchanged a grimace or accusatory glance.

He examined the Gerudo, heart sinking with every step his horse took. He knew these women. He hadn't spent eleven years in their tents for nothing.

"Spiritwind," he muttered.

"I said quiet," the Gerudo holding his reins snapped again. He knew her, too—her name was Raheb, and she had been thirteen years old when he saw her last. "Prisoners are not allowed to speak, especially blood traitors like you," she said with all the arrogance and contempt of his people. Well, that answered the question of whether the Gerudo recognized him, at least.

"What do you want?" Ganondorf demanded, ignoring her order. "Why have you captured us? Gerudo don't take prisoners."

"Do I hear you correctly?" Raheb growled. "A blood traitor claims to know what my people do and don't?"

"Blood traitor or not, I spent eleven years in this desert," Ganondorf reminded her coolly, refusing to rise to her bait. "I know _our _people's customs as well as you do."

"Times have changed," Raheb said ominously, and she refused to answer another question.

The sun sank low on the horizon by the time a cluster of tents came into view across the stretch of white sand. _Home at last,_ Ganondorf thought ruefully as their party entered the village of the Spiritwind Tribe—little more than a ragtag collection of dwellings made from patched scarlet, gold, and orange fabric. Once he had vowed he would never return to this place. Now, it seemed, the choice was out of his hands.

The Hylians and Ganondorf were made to dismount, each allotted a ladleful of water, then escorted to one of the larger tents. Their hands were untied, but with Gerudo armed to the teeth stationed around the tent, their chances of escape were ridiculously slim.

The minute his fellow soldiers thought the Gerudo were out of earshot, a storm of talk broke loose.

"What the hell do they want with us!"

"One minute I'm fighting with my squad, the next one of these sand snakes hits me around the head—"

"See to Veldine, he's bleeding through his bandage."

"If we have to die, I'm taking some of these bitches with me!"

Ganondorf snorted. Instantly all talk quieted and all eyes—wary, afraid, hostile—turned to him.

"You have something to say?" a soldier he recognized from another squad demanded roughly.

"Two things, actually," Ganondorf said amiably. "First, don't kid yourselves about taking out some of the sisters. If they mean to kill us—and they probably do—we don't stand a chance without weapons. Second, we're in a felt tent. They can hear everything we're saying."

That got attention. Startled, the soldiers glanced at one another in silence.

Ganondorf shifted with a grimace for his injured arm. The setting sun filtered through the warm fabric of the tent, lighting the inside with an orange glow that seemed to heat the intolerably stuffy air to almost oven-like degrees.

He hadn't expected this. To face his sisters in battle, yes, to see the hatred in their eyes when they realized who he was—to cut them down, kill them, perhaps be killed himself—he'd expected that, in a war with his people. He hadn't expected to be captured and dragged back to the place he'd left so long ago without looking back, his birthplace, his blood tribe. He smiled ironically. Was it his fate to die here, in the place he'd once deserted? He should have known he could never truly leave this place.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" a whispered voice intruded on his thoughts. It belonged to Cormac, a fresh-faced squadmate who was a year younger than Ganondorf. "You are, right?" he asked hopefully when Ganondorf looked at him. "You can talk to them, convince them to let us go, right? My fiancée is waiting for me back home, I don't want to leave her—"

Ganondorf sighed. "I can't."

Cormac stared at him, wide-eyed. "You can't?"

"He means he won't," snapped the soldier who had spoken to him earlier.

Ganondorf met his glare unflinchingly. "You heard them call me a blood traitor, didn't you? Do you know what that means?" When the soldier didn't answer, he went on, "It means that I'm the lowest of the low, worse than a Hylian. An animal. All of the women in this tribe are related to me in some way—sisters, cousins, aunts, nieces. You don't betray your blood tribe. Not ever. If you do, you're beyond disgusting." He smiled bitterly. "Don't kid yourselves. They'd make you headsister before they listened to me."

"So what are we supposed to do?" Cormac whispered.

"Maybe our people will try a rescue," another soldier suggested hopefully.

Ganondorf shook his head. "They won't find us. They won't get anywhere near us."

Subdued, the group sank into silence once again. Ganondorf watched as the natural glow dimmed and bursts of light appeared through the walls of the tent as the sisters lit torches. The air rapidly cooled as the sun set completely, a small mercy, but hunger and thirst went unquenched, wounds untended. Luckily none of them were hurt very seriously, but the gash on Ganondorf's forearm was distinctly uncomfortable, and in danger of infection the longer it went untreated.

Despite his discomfort, Ganondorf was so exhausted from the battle that sleep quickly claimed him. In his dream, he was standing in the courtyard of the Hylian palace where he had practiced before the war. Link wasn't there, but Zelda was, her head bent as though in prayer as she bandaged the wound on Ganondorf's arm. When finished, she took his hand between both of hers and smiled up at him, and the war, the Gerudo, the anger and uncertainty of fighting his own people was forgotten. This was where he belonged.

Someone grabbed his shoulder and Ganondorf started awake. Everything was dark, the air stale, and for a moment he didn't know where he was—then a harsh female voice spoke. "Get up. You've been summoned to the headsister's tent."

He jerked away from the clutching hand. "Not a chance."

Silver flashed in the darkness. "You'll come or you'll die."

Ganondorf smiled as a razor sharp blade pressed against his neck. "Go ahead. That's what she wants, isn't it?"

"Not until she's through with you first," the voice said grimly, and Ganondorf was jerked to his feet.

"That's the problem with Gerudo bitches," he grumbled as he followed the sister out of the tent. "You don't know how to take _no_ for an answer."

Outside the tent, the torches were still lit; Gerudo on sentry watch drifted in and out of the flickering light like wraiths. The very air seemed to shimmer as though in a dream as Ganondorf followed the Gerudo to the largest tent in the village; he thought perhaps he was feverish from his wound already, but there was no more time to ponder it as the flap was thrown back and perfumed air rushed into his nostrils. He entered the candle-lit tent and stopped in the center, paralyzed, miserable.

A Gerudo rose gracefully from an array of embroidered pillows. "Sand's blessings, my son."

He knew this woman as well as he knew himself—Sidh, Spiritwind's headsister. "Mother," he whispered.

"So you have returned to us at last. I would like to say it is good to see you." Disgust curled in her voice as her slender fingers brushed over his chest, lingering briefly on the emblem of the Hylian army on his chest. "But instead I find you have returned as the Hylian king's lapdog!"

He pulled away from her touch, the old bitterness and anger welling inside him with almost frightening haste. It was a struggle to keep his voice level. "Undoubtedly you expected me to crawl back on hands and knees as though I were _your_ lapdog."

"I expected you to keep the pride and honor of your blood tribe intact," Sidh snapped. "But you consort with northern demons and fight with them against your own people! You have shamed your tribe, Ganondorf!"

"No more than the tribes shame themselves in their dishonorable actions toward the Hylians."

"The Hylian scum have no honor," Sidh said derisively, "and apparently, neither do you." Her intent yellow eyes stared at him, through him, as though he were beyond disgusting. The twisting in his gut was as familiar as that contemptuous gaze.

"Then kill me, mother, if I cause you such unbearable shame," he growled.

"You were to be the greatest of us," she went on, ignoring him. "When I birthed you, the tribes came as one to see the child born male to a Gerudo sister. Never was there such a gathering! Four tribes beggared themselves for the appropriate offering of gratitude to Our Lady of Sand. The celebrations lasted for weeks. And one by one the tribes came to my tent to offer gifts, to offer their daughters as your consorts, to offer their allegiance to you as k—"

"And you were honored beyond all mothers and revered like a queen for birthing a male," Ganondorf said sardonically. "Funny, isn't it, how much pride you take in it, as though it were any great task to spread your legs like a common whore for those Hylians you call demons!"

Her face suffused with a dark rage, Sidh struck him across the face with the flat of her palm. "How _dare_ you," she hissed. "You despicable, shameless—well have you learned from the Hylians!"

Ganondorf laughed bitterly. "Well did I learn from my selfish, power-hungry bitch of a mother—"

Sidh raised her hand to strike him again, but Ganondorf caught her wrist, tightening his grip brutally until his mother gasped in pain. "I am no longer the boy who ran from you in terror," he said coldly, releasing her. "Don't think to treat me as such."

Sidh cradled her wrist, her lips tight with pain. "Now I see what manner of creature I raised," she gasped. "One that would raise his hand against his own mother—"

"No worse than a mother who raises her hand against her defenseless child," Ganondorf said coldly. "As I've told you, I'm not the boy you once knew. My life may be in your hands, but don't expect me to beg for it." He turned to leave, not caring what the Gerudo did to him anymore.

"Wait!" His mother caught his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. "You must listen to me."

He shook her off easily. "Why should I hear words from you?"

Sidh glared at him. "You may hate me, you may hate your blood tribe, but you are still a Gerudo. Your foremost duty _should_ be to your people, who are suffering under the tyranny of the north."

"Why should I care how the Gerudo suffer?" Ganondorf said blithely. "All of Hyrule knows that it was their cowardly and criminal actions that led to this war."

"Cowards in the north's eyes, but not in our goddess's," Sidh snapped. "Our Lady has seen our suffering. One hundred years ago, our mothers labored to sow the lands of the desert, but the sand was barren and unyielding. They turned their eyes toward Hyrule Field, but the first Hylian king had claimed it—as though it was his inalienable right—and our mothers were forced to beg, _beg,_ just for enough food to survive! For a century we have labored to pay the taxes for our scarce allowance of food, we have lived by the word of the king, we have taken his men to our beds simply to ensure that our bloodline is continued. Perhaps we are cursed in the eyes of the golden goddesses, but Our Lady gave us a son to lead us into a new age of prosperity. You _must_ fulfill your duty!"

"Fulfill my duty?" Ganondorf said incredulously. "The twenty tribes have cursed me with all their breath and called me a blood traitor—and you think they'll have me as their king?"

"They will because they must," Sidh said grimly. "Our Lady knows that you are our only hope. The tribes know it, even as they curse your name for your betrayal. We knew that you must return and be made to walk your path, for the sake and survival of the people." Her mouth twisted bitterly. "Why do you believe we went to war with the Hylians?"

For a moment Ganondorf stared at her, uncomprehending. Then it hit him with such force that he rocked back, the blood draining from his face. "Goddesses," he whispered, horrified. "It's not—it can't be true. This war—all the lives lost—"

"You vowed never to return to the desert," Sidh reminded him mercilessly. "How else were we to bring you home?"

"No. NO!"Bile rose in his throat. She was lying, he wanted desperately to believe it, but he knew it had to be the truth. All along he had wondered why the Gerudo would choose to go to war against an undeniably stronger nation and army—now he knew the reason. All the violence, all the lives thrown needlessly away—his fault, _his fault!_

The fury in him suffused every pore in his body; with a cry of pure anguish, Ganondorf seized his mother by the throat.

"Stop the war or I'll choke the life from you, by the goddesses I swear it!"

Sidh seized his wrist in both her hands. "And will you convince the king to lift the tariffs?" she rasped. "Will you return as a Hylian dog to beg the king's mercy? Or will you take your rightful place as head of the tribes and demand your nation's rights in the name of Our Lady?"

"You won't trap me like this," he whispered, trembling with fury. "I won't remain in this desert. I AM NOT YOUR KING!"

"Then kill me," Sidh whispered. "Kill me, and the war will continue until every last Gerudo lies dead in the desert sand."

For a terrible moment he wanted nothing more than to tighten his fingers until the last breath was wrung from his mother's body. Then his shoulder slumped, the rage draining from him like water through a sieve, leaving him little more than an empty husk. He flung Sidh away from him and collapsed to the floor, holding his face in his hands.

So this was the net the goddesses had woven for him. _I would have given anything to be free of this desert forever,_ he thought, defeated. _But the choice is already made for me. How they must laugh, the golden goddesses._

Slowly, heavily, he climbed to his feet. Sidh watched him from where he had flung her to the ground, not bothering to rise as he towered over her.

"You're going to free the soldiers you captured," he told her bleakly. "And you're going to send them north with a message. Spread the word to all the tribes. We're surrendering."

* * *

To be continued.


	15. Warning

_A note from the Hime no Argh—_

This chapter's a bit short, but the following ones should be longer. I want to address a comment I received on Ganondorf's character in the last chapter. May I suggest not judging his character by the standards of Ocarina of Time or any of the other games? This is a slightly alternate universe fic, for lack of a better term. The characters are not necessarily their counterparts from the games.

Ganondorf most certainly showed intelligence and reason in Sidh's tent, as he's shown throughout the fic. When in previous chapters was it ever shown that he was an unreasonable and stupid man? You suggested that he should have gotten angry when the soldiers were badgering him. But he lives with hostility from his fellow soldiers every day since he came to the Hylian Kingdom. He's used to it. He's learned to deal with it. So no, he wouldn't have gotten angry over just that.

I believe characterization in fanfiction is extremely important. But let's face it, if I was being totally true to Ganondorf's character from any of the games, he'd be an evil tyrant already. I've done that in previous fics. But for the purpose of this fic, I'm taking liberty with his character. If I wasn't, _Fallen Prophecy_ would be radically different.

Just something I wanted to point out.

* * *

Chapter 15  
Warning

Wrapped up in Link's arms, Zelda cried for a long time in the chapel in the palace. Not since she was a little girl had she shed so many tears; it was as though all the grief and anger and fear surrounding her parents' deaths, the war, and her ascension finally poured out of her, here where she was safe. Link rested his chin on top of her head and held her tightly until her tears subsided at last; when she pulled away, the sadness was still there, but she felt a great deal better.

She also knew she must look like a mess. "Some women can cry and look beautiful," she muttered thickly, blotting at her face with her sleeve.

Link smiled and offered her a handkerchief. "It's a rare talent, I think." Then the smile faded from his face, leaving him with the same worn appearance as when he'd first appeared in the threshold of the chapel. It had barely been half a year since they parted, yet he seemed older, somehow; the look in his face told her that whatever he'd seen in the desert, it had changed him. She found herself wondering what he saw in her face, if the child she'd been last summer had gone from her, as it seemed to have gone from Link.

"What upset you so much, Zelda? I heard something—" Link hesitated, his eyes meeting hers. "Zelda, are you...queen?"

The gentleness in his voice when he said _queen_ nearly undid her again; throat too tight to speak, Zelda nodded.

"Goddesses." Link closed his eyes, and when he opened them again they were bright with tears. "Then the king and queen...?"

"Mother—well, you know she was never really healthy after last summer," Zelda said shakily. "She took ill during the winter, and last week she finally passed away. My father was—he was so devastated. He—" She'd been about to repeat the lie, that he'd wasted away of grief, but when she met Link's eyes again the truth poured out of her. "He poisoned himself. He killed himself, Link! How could he—how could he _do _that? I know how much he loved Mother, but to leave me all alone—" Her voice caught, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

"I know he didn't want to leave you," Link said quietly, tentatively. "He just loved your mother that much..." He sighed wearily. "I wish he could have carried on for your sake, though. You must have been so devastated after losing them both."

Zelda nodded. "There's more though. Link—" She looked at him again, still amazed and overjoyed that he was just _alive, _standing here with her. "Link, they had you on the dead roster."

Link stared at her. "They did? But why would—" Then comprehension dawned in his face. "Of course. After the battle."

"At Watersedge, you mean? What happened?"

Link smiled half-heartedly. "I fell off a cliff."

"You _what?"_

"Into a river," he amended. "It wasn't fun, but—well, I lived. I wandered around the gorge for a couple of days, then found a way out. I was miles from Watersedge by then."

"Did you try to find your company?" Zelda asked.

"No. I heard—" Link hesitated. "Someone mentioned a northern queen, and I put two and two together. I had to come back," he added gently. "I knew you would need me."

Her voice caught in her throat. "I—I don't know what to say. Link, I missed you so much. When I thought you had died, I—" He said nothing, gazing at her in a way that made gooseflesh ripple over her skin. She swallowed hard. "There's something I have to tell you. It's about Ganondorf."

The look in his eyes abruptly changed to something close to fear. "What is it? Is he all right?"

Zelda shook her head helplessly. "I don't know. He's missing. They think he was captured by the Gerudo."

Link's eyes widened. "Captured?" he whispered. "But the Gerudo never take prisoners!"

"I know. It's not likely—" Her voice caught again, but she swallowed and made herself go on. "It's not likely he'll survive."

Link turned away abruptly and slumped into a pew, burying his face in his hands. Zelda hesitated, then went to his side and sank down beside him, her arms encircling his shoulders. She could feel his shoulders shaking with repressed sobs, and closed her eyes to hold back her own tears.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." She couldn't think of anything more to say, so instead she just held him as tightly as he'd held her.

After a few minutes Link drew in a long, shaky breath. "I won't give up hope," he said wearily, straightening slightly so that he could turn to look at her. "He wouldn't go down without a fight, Ganondorf." Zelda smiled briefly as he brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes. "No wonder you were so upset. You thought you'd lost all of us, didn't you?"

Zelda nodded tiredly. "Losing my parents was horrible. Losing Ganondorf would be—nearly unbearable. But with you here, I think I can go on."

"Good." Link took her hand and stood, pulling her to her feet with him. "Zelda, something happened in the desert that you should know about. Do you remember that woman, Fallen, who told our futures last summer?"

Zelda nodded. "How could I forget? But I haven't seen her since."

"Neither did I, not until—" Link hesitated, then reached behind him to close a hand around the hilt of a sword, sheathed in a scabbard on his back. "The night after I fell into the gorge, when I was still trapped down there, she came to me. I don't know how she'd gotten there, but..." He shook his head. "She told me I had to come with her, because ' we had work to do,' she said. She took me to a forge—it seemed to be set in the cliff face, but it wasn't there in the morning. I don't know where it was, really. Anyway, she made me this."

He unsheathed the sword and held it out for her to see. Even Zelda, who knew little about weapons, could appreciate its workmanship. The sword was beautifully crafted, finely tempered to help it retain its edge. There was a tiny Triforce engraved on the blade, just below the hilt.

"Steel from the sacred land," Link whispered, sounding mystified. "Three times to shape it, and blood...blood to bind it to its wielder..."

Zelda stared up at him, wide-eyed. "Whose blood?"

Link held out a hand; a pink scar was slashed across his palm.

Zelda cried out in shock and indignation. "That woman cut you open and bled you just to make a _sword?"_

Link shook his head. "She's not just any woman, Zelda. And I don't think this is just any sword." He looked down at the sword in silence for a moment, then met Zelda's eyes again. "I don't know why she gave me this, but I know what I need to do with it. Zelda, I don't intend to return to the desert. You need me more here, and not just as a friend. Fallen said something had chosen me, and I would need this sword. Even if I don't know what she meant, it's plain enough that something is going to happen in Hyrule, something that will change our lives, maybe forever."

He offered the sword to her, lying flat across his palms, a warrior's ultimate sign of fealty. "Zelda, I swear to you, if you'll have me," he whispered, "I'll protect you with this sword, in this life and all those to come."

The very air in the chapel seemed to shiver. As though in a dream, Zelda extended her hands over the blade of the sword. "As your life is mine, so is mine yours." The words flowed from her as though a chant for a spell, unplanned and powerful. Distantly she was aware that something very significant was taking place, but that part of her seemed far away. "Use me as your guide. We will never part, in this life and all those to come."

Link didn't move when she pressed the blade down to cut lightly into his palm, nor did she blink when he took the sword and cut hers. The pain seemed far away as he took her hand, entwining their fingers, entwining their blood. She shivered as a strange energy seemed to fill her.

_Blood to bind..._

Whatever spell seemed to grip them faded away. Link lowered the sword slowly, looking at their entwined hands.

"Why did we do that?"

Zelda shook her head absently. "I don't know."

Link turned her hand palm up to look at the shallow wound he himself had inflicted, and his brows drew together in a scowl. "I wouldn't do this. Something used us."

"Wouldn't you?" Zelda asked almost lazily. An unusual calm had settled over her, and she couldn't seem to bring herself to get upset over whatever might have used them, as Link seemed to think. "If you thought it was necessary to protect me, to keep us close?"

Link traced the shallow cut on her palm. "Blood to bind..." His lips formed the words soundlessly. Then he scowled again, raising his head and looking around the chapel as though searching for something, his hand gripping Zelda's tightly. "All right, show yourself! I know you're in here!"

"Link, who are you...?" A shimmer of silvery light behind her caught her eye, and Zelda whirled to face the altar. A woman in a long cloak and hood stood below the goddess sculpture, face hidden in shadows.

"Fallen," Link muttered.

She couldn't see Fallen's eyes beneath the hood, but Zelda knew they were fixed levelly on her. Goosebumps rippled along her flesh as Fallen inclined her head slightly. "Your Majesty."

Link stepped forward, placing himself firmly between Zelda and the cloaked woman. "What do you want?" he demanded. "What are you trying to accomplish here? First you give me the sword and refuse to tell me why, then you force us through that—that ritual—"

"You're wrong," Fallen interrupted calmly. "That was not my doing; it was yours. You subconsciously chose to bind yourselves to one another. The only entities guiding you were your own spirits."

"For what purpose?"

Fallen shrugged. "Were you not the one who said that 'something is going to happen in Hyrule, something that will change our lives forever'? Perhaps the answers you seek are within yourself."

Zelda had heard enough. Placing a reassuring hand on Link's arm, she stepped forward once more. "You called me Your Majesty, so you clearly know who I am," she said crisply, ignoring the slight quiver of apprehension that went through her when Fallen's eyes shifted toward her again. "You are standing unannounced and uninvited in the palace of the Hylian monarchy, having just witnessed a potentially dangerous ritual between Link and I that neither of us had conscious control over, and refusing to answer our questions. Why should I not assume you are a hostile intruder and have you arrested immediately?"

"Because no prison in Hyrule could hold me, and no mortal could harm me," Fallen answered without a moment's hesitation. "I have done nothing to harm you nor your consort, Your Majesty."

"No harm!" Zelda cried, grabbing one of Link's hands. "What do you call _this?"_

Fallen glanced almost casually at the scar across Link's palm. "A necessary step. It was the first. You and your consort have just performed the second."

Link scowled. "Necessary for _what?"_

Fallen shook her head. "I cannot tell you."

"Why?"

"I am bound not to."

"By whom?" Zelda demanded.

Fallen shook her head again, and for the first time there was something other than calm assuredness in her voice—frustration. "You still have no concept of what I am or _why_ I am. You are like fish swimming in a bowl, and all you see is your world. Do you really think that merely because you stand before me in the domain you rule, you can order me to speak? The power that binds me is beyond you. _I_ am beyond you. Now, listen.

"I cannot give you your answers, but I can guide you toward them. If you look, you will see the path. If you listen, you will hear the voices that call you. Forget mortal ties and concerns. They will only blind you. Wake to the world beyond your glass."

As suddenly as she had appeared, the woman was gone. Zelda started, but Link merely made a frustrated sound deep in his throat. "That is getting really annoying."

Zelda looked up at him, disturbed. "What does she want with us? I don't need this now." She knew she sounded childish, but she couldn't help it. "I have a kingdom to think about. 'Forget mortal ties,' she says—who does she think I am?"

Link ripped a long strip out of his tunic and wrapped it around Zelda's hand as a makeshift bandage. "Never mind what she said. You're right—you have to think about your kingdom. I'll worry about Fallen." He gazed at her in silence for a moment, holding her hand between his. "Zelda, I meant what I said, whether I said it consciously or not. I'll be your protection, your support. In this life, and all those to come," he added with a crooked smile.

Her smile felt tremulous but genuine. "Thank you. Link, I have a lot of work to do."

He squeezed her hand, reassuring. "Just let me know what I can do."

* * *

To be continued.


	16. Surrender

_A note from the Hime no Argh herself—_

Finally, an update! Sorry this chapter took so long; I had a bit of trouble getting started on it, and then when I finally did I ended up finishing it the same day. Go figure, right? Anyway, Chapter 17 _should_ be along sooner.

Thanks as always for your reviews, and don't forget to leave your questions. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 16  
Surrender

It was a cold night in late winter, about a week after her father's death, when Zelda was shaken abruptly out of sleep by Impa's hand on her shoulder.

"Wake up, Your Majesty!"

Zelda awoke almost immediately, sitting straight up in bed and peering at Impa through the gloom. "What is it?" she whispered, afraid that something terrible had happened in the palace again.

"You'd best get up and come see for yourself," Impa advised, her expression difficult to read in the darkness of the bedroom. "You remember the soldiers who were captured by the Gerudo in the battle at Watersedge?" she added as Zelda swung out of bed, wincing at the cold of the bare wooden floor. "They've come back, and they have a message for you."

Zelda's heart leapt into her throat. "Is Ganondorf with them?"

Impa's eyes met hers, and the Sheikah slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry, Zelda. It seems he's the only one who hasn't returned."

She dressed herself with numb fingers, stomach roiling as though she were about to be sick. Hope would do her little good now. If Ganondorf wasn't here with the rest of the captured soldiers, there seemed little chance he was still alive.

She swallowed back the sickness—she needed to be strong now—and headed to the palace infirmary, where they'd been taken. It was a tall, plain, wooden room with rows and rows of cots; branches of candles were lit, and several healers were examining the soldiers, all of whom looked tired and dirty, but relatively well. Some stood when Zelda entered, but she waved them back down onto the cots. Jolon, the captain of the Palace Guard, was also there waiting for her. He bowed; Zelda nodded and looked at the soldiers.

"Welcome back," she said quietly, looking from one weary face to the next. Most she didn't recognize, except for one or two who might've been in Ganondorf's squad. "I won't keep you long. You must all be exhausted—have you eaten?"

"I sent Efren to wake the cooks, Your Majesty," one of the healers replied absently, preoccupied with stitching a grimacing soldier's arm. Zelda recognized her as the one who had brought her around when she fainted at the Council meeting; her name was Saille.

Zelda nodded. "Good." She looked at the soldiers again. "Can somebody tell me what happened?"

One of the soldiers, a gangly redhead, tried to stand again, only to be tugged back down by a healer. "Your Majesty, if it pleases you…"

"State your name, soldier," Jolon ordered.

He bowed awkwardly from where he sat. "Blake, Your Majesty, Captain. Sergeant of Fourth Company."

"Thank you, Sergeant Blake," Zelda said politely. "What happened, please?"

"It was during the Watersedge battle. A bunch of us—" He gestured, indicating his fellow soldiers, "—we got separated and surrounded by Gerudo. They tied us up and took us to one of their villages, and put us in a tent overnight."

"What did they want from you?" Jolon demanded. "Troop numbers, I assume? What else did you tell them?"

"Captain, is it necessary to interrogate them in this condition?" Zelda asked sharply.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, we can reasonably assume that certain methods were used to extricate information—"

"Torture, you mean? Don't assume it necessary to spare me details."

"Torture, interrogation, who can say, Your Majesty? Regardless—"

Blake cleared his throat. "Sir—"

"With Alaster in the desert, it falls to me to find out what the Gerudo may have garnered as a result of—"

"Sir!" When Jolon and Zelda looked at Blake, he cleared his throat again and sat up a little straighter. "Sir, Your Majesty, there was no torture or interrogation. They kept us for the night, and they let us go in the morning."

Jolon started. "You're telling me, Sergeant Blake, that the enemy captured you in the middle of battle just to give you a little overnight siesta and send you on your way?"

Blake flushed slightly but nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Not one of you was squeezed for information—"

"They did take one away," one of the other soldiers spoke up. "The Gerudo—what's his name—"

"Ganondorf," supplied the soldier whom Zelda thought she recognized from her friend's squad.

It was as though a fist were squeezing her heart; Zelda found it difficult to breathe. "They took him, you said? What did they do with him?"

They looked at one another, then Blake shook his head. "He never came back, Your Majesty. None of those sand snakes would say what became of him."

"I see," Zelda said dizzily. Jolon put a hand on her arm to steady her.

"Very well. If that's all, then, you boys had best get yourselves some food and rest."

"I'll look after them," Saille assured, now bandaging her soldier's arm.

"Wait," Blake protested, reaching into a leather pouch at his belt. "I've a message for the monarchy—that'd be you now, of course," he added respectfully, holding a crumpled piece of parchment to Zelda.

"Thank you," she replied, smoothing out creases in the parchment as the soldiers trickled out of the infirmary with little interest. She knew it had been foolish to hope that Ganondorf would make it back alive, but she had hoped nonetheless. Now it seemed there was virtually no chance.

"Your Majesty?" Jolon spoke up when it became clear her mind was elsewhere.

"Oh—my apologies, Captain. I was preoccupied." She looked down at the parchment, sighed inwardly, then handed it to Jolon. "Let's hear it, then."

Jolon unfolded the parchment, cleared his throat, and began to read, _"To the newly instated Queen, we send to you the word of the one who speaks for the tribes. Let it be known—" _He stopped abruptly, staring at the page with eyes that grew wider and wider.

"Captain Jolon?" Zelda said, alarmed.

He raised his eyes to gaze at her with a look of pure astonishment. "Your Majesty—they've surrendered."

It took her several moments to process the words, and when she did, she wanted to laugh. "Surrendered? That's impossible, Captain. They wouldn't surrender."

Wordlessly Jolon handed over the parchment. Zelda took it and read in an untidy scrawl,

_To the newly instated Queen,_

_We send to you the word of the one who speaks for the tribes. Let it be known that as you read this letter, our warriors will have retreated from the border; let it be known by the freedom of the males we have returned to you that our words are true. We offer surrender. We offer peace between our nations. With your permission, we will meet and discuss terms._

_Spiritwind, First of the Twenty-Five Tribes descended of Sand_

She had to sit on one of the cots when she was finished reading. "Well," she said numbly. "They don't beat around the bush, do they?"

"Your Majesty," Jolon said, "merely give the word and I'll send a dispatch to General Alaster immediately. We'll march straight into the desert and subdue them within the week—"

"No," Zelda interrupted. She stared at the note again, then folded it and looked up, meeting Jolon's eyes. "They've surrendered. We're not going to massacre them."

"Your Majesty, it could be a trick."

"I know that." She got to her feet, handing the parchment to her captain. "Call the Councilmen to meeting. We're going to send a message back instructing them to come north. _We _are going to present terms, _we_ are going to draw up a treaty, and _they_ are going to sign it. In no uncertain terms are they to know this. Make sure of it."

Jolon bowed. "I'll wake the other Councilmen and the palace scribes immediately."

"Thank you." She watched, lingering in place, as he hurried out of the infirmary, then went to the heavy double doors, both carved with signs for healing and protection. One by one she shut them, turning the heavy bolt so that no one could get inside. Done, she stepped back from the doors.

"Sheik."

A soft _thwap_ behind her confirmed his presence. "I'm impressed, Your Majesty. I suppose you knew I was still with you all along?"

She turned to face him, her face schooled into remoteness. "I had my suspicions. I didn't really expect you to obey me."

"Of course not. How can I protect you without watching over you?"

"It's not your job to protect me." She took a breath. "But I do have a job for you now."

He watched her through half-lidded eyes, shielding the shocking crimson of his gaze. "You see, Your Majesty? I knew that you would need me."

"I assume you heard what Jolon and I discussed?" she said crisply, ignoring him. "The Gerudo have surrendered. I want to know why. And I especially want to know—"

"Who speaks for the tribes?" Sheik finished for her.

She swallowed hard. _It's not like he can read your mind,_ she scolded herself, though she wasn't precisely sure. "Yes. And I want to know before they come north. Can you do it?"

"Of course." He slid back away from her, into the shadows. "Your knight returned from the desert. Congratulations."

"Leave Link alone," Zelda said steadily.

"I'll stay away from him, don't worry. Question is, will he stay away from you?"

He was gone, as much as he ever was gone from her presence.

"I don't _want_ him to stay away," she said obstinately into the shadows, and turned to leave the infirmary.

* * *

A week passed in a haze in Spiritwind's tents. Ganondorf's wounds were treated; the soldiers who had been captured alongside him were released and sent north with the ordered notice of surrender. Riders went out to announce the news to all the tribes.

Ganondorf didn't sleep well that week, not until he knew that the fighting tribes had all withdrawn from the border. It didn't matter that most of his fellow soldiers had treated him with open hostility for years; he wanted no more deaths on his hands.

He spent most of his time in the tent he'd been given, isolated from the rest of the tribe. He felt like an animal trapped in a cage, forced to reside among the tribe he'd left so many years ago. King or not, he wanted little to do with any of them, especially his mother. He was certain that behind her cold eyes, Sidh was plotting ways to use him to her own advantage. It would be just like her—all his life, before he left the desert, she had tried to groom him as king of the tribes—with her working from the shadows, of course. She'd had great plans, he'd no doubt, of ruling the desert nation, queen in all but name.

Well, it wasn't going to happen now. She might think she'd won something in ensnaring him in the desert, but he'd secede the entire nation to the Hylian Kingdom before he allowed her to have any sort of power over his impromptu throne. Sometimes he thought that would be the best idea in any case.

It was close to two weeks since his fellow soldiers had been released from capture before they heard from the north. A Gerudo was sent to his tent to tell him the news.

"Lord Ganondorf?" The young Gerudo stepped tentatively into the tent, dropping to her knees and pressing her forehead to the floor in utter obeisance. They had not precisely worked out what to call him yet, and since Ganondorf didn't give a damn about titles, he hadn't bothered to submit a preference.

"Get up," he told the girl wearily. "Don't do that. I don't need to be reminded." He eyed her as she rose obediently; she was young, barely in adolescence, and he didn't recognize her. "Who are you?"

"Inra, lord. Daughter of Ylani, horsewoman of Spiritwind." Her mother's name he recognized vaguely; so the girl was a third of fourth cousin, probably.

"What do you want, Inra?"

"Some Hylians arrived from the north. They have a letter from their queen." She held out a thick piece of parchment, folded and sealed with the royal crest of the Hylian monarchy.

Ganondorf took it blankly. This was a letter from Zelda—not written by her, perhaps, but more than likely containing her words. Zelda, the Hylian Queen. He'd heard the news from his mother, who'd had it from her spy-warriors, those who intercepted messages carried between the forts.

He broke the seal, unfolded the parchment and began to read.

_Spiritwind Tribe,_

_From Her Royal Majesty Zelda, Queen of Hylia, We send greetings. We have received and accept your notice of surrender. Hereforth, We shall determine the planning and signing of a treaty between our nations._

_You will send north the following persons: all members of the tribe of Spiritwind, including the headsister and witchsister, all headsisters and witchsisters of all tribes of the Gerudo nation, and anyone else who holds a leadership position in your nation. All of these persons will come immediately, as one group, to the Hylian palace. All headsisters will sign a treaty and agree to terms that We decide upon. We remind you that the terms of surrender state that absolutely no hostile act is to be committed by any member of your nation upon any member of Our nation or any other nation or holding in Hyrule until a treaty is signed. Should you violate these terms any treaty in planning will be nullified and we will commence war._

_We allot seven days to gather the headsisters and witchsisters of your nation and travel north to Our palace. If you do not arrive within three days We shall consider your surrender void and commence war._

_Yours,_

_Zelda the Queen, The Royal House of Hylia_

He couldn't help an ironic smile. So Zelda was taking an aggressive stance, even in the face of the Gerudo's surrender—good for her. He knew his people. They would take advantage of the slightest sign of weakness, although, as their newly-instated ruler, perhaps he could exert some control over his reckless sisters.

There was no mention of him anywhere in the letter, but that was expected. He hadn't let them put his name on the message sent north to the queen—he wasn't sure why. Perhaps he was simply afraid to let Zelda know what had become of him. After all, he had just become king of her nation's greatest enemy.

Then, in a rare moment of complete clarity, it came to him—he knew exactly what to do, he knew the solution, to his nation's problems, to Hylia's problems, even to his own problems.

He levered himself up out of his seat with more energy than he'd felt in days. "Inra, you said your name was?"

The Gerudo girl nodded wordlessly, gazing up at him with what seemed close to awe.

"Inra, take this letter to Sidh—" He handed it back to her, "—and tell her to follow its instructions exactly. Tell her to get the headsisters and witchsisters of the nation here immediately. When you're done, go around to the rest of the tribe and tell them to prepare to go north within a few days. Will you do that?"

"Of course," Inra said fiercely. "I am to do anything you ask, Lord Ganondorf." But she lingered momentarily, looking down at the letter. "Are we really going north? All of us?"

"Yes."

She looked up at him. "Are we going to do what they tell us, the Hylians?"

"Maybe," Ganondorf said distantly, thinking. "Maybe not. I'm going to make an offer to the queen that will change things for all of us—Gerudo and Hylians. She might accept. In fact, knowing her, she probably will."

* * *

To be continued.


End file.
